THIS 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

GIFT  OF 

Mrs.  Helen  A.  Dillon 


GROWTH  of  the  SOIL 


a 

lavish  wuh  my  pra,se,  but  indeed  the  book  impresses  me  as  among  the  very  geatest 
novels  I  have  ever  read  It  is  wholly  beautiful;  it  is  saturated  with  ^om  and 
humor  and  tenderness;  these  peasants  are  a  ^triumph  of  creative  understanding." 
TI.  x!C  cavpti,va'es  the  imagination  more  than  any  conventional  romance  "  savs 
The  Neu,  York  Evening  Post;  "  .......  powerfully  and  finely  conceived." 


Growth  of  the  Soil 


I  have  the  honor  to  announce  that  I  have  been 
made   the  sole  authorized  American   publisher   of 

Knut  Hamsun 

Winner  of  the  Nobel  Prize  for  Literature  1020 

The  following  novels  are  now  ready;  others  are  in 
preparation  and  will  be  issued  at  regular  intervals. 

Hunger 

Translated  by  George  Egerton. 

With  an  Introduction  by  Edwin  Bjorkman. 

"  This  very  unusual  and  notable  book  .  .  .  the  product  of  a 
most  remarkable  imagination,  so  real  is  it,  so  vivid,  so  mov- 
ing, so  compelling  in  its  claims  upon  the  reader's  emotions 
and  sympathies." — New  York  Times. 

Growth  of  the  Soil 

Translated,  with  an  essay  on  Hamsun, 

by  W.  W.  Worster. 

Two  volumes,  photogravure  portrait. 

"  I  do  not  know  how  to  express  the  admiration  I  feel  for  this 
great  book  without  seeming  extravagant.  One  of  the  very 
greatest  novels  I  have  ever  read." —  H.  G.  Wells. 

To  be  ready  in  the  fall  of  iQ2i: 

Pan 

"  We  all  know  the  difficulties  of  simplicity,  and  most  English 
novelists  have  frankly  given  it  up  because  they  hope  elab- 
orate drapery  will  hide  the  mistakes  which  they  can't  help 
making.  But  in  '  Pan  '  we  have  a  beautiful,  merciless  sim- 
plicity, for  Knut  Hamsun  is  too  great  an  artist  to  need  cover 
for  mistakes."—  Westminster  Gazette. 


kA'M.^X 


8£®€ft 


8 
"**^ 


Growth  of 
the  Soil 

Translated  from  the  Norwegian  of 

Knut    Hamsun 

by   W.  W.   Worster 


Volume  One 


New  York 

Alfred  •  A  •  Knopf 

1921 


COPYRIGHT,  1917,  BY 
GYLDENDALSKE  BOGHANDEL,  NORDISK.  FORLOG 

COPYRIGHT,  1921,  BY 

ALFRED  A.  KNOPF,  INC. 

[ORIGINAL  TITLE  "  MARKENS  GR^M  "3 


PMNTED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  OP  AMERICA 


PT 


H3 
*  / 


Book  I 


Chapter  I 


THE  long,  long  road  over  the  moors  and  up 
into  the  forest  —  who  trod  it  into  being  first 
of  all?  Man,  a  human  being,  the  first  that 
came  here.  There  was  no  path  before  he  came. 
Afterward,  some  beast  or  other,  following  the  faint 
tracks  over  marsh  and  moorland,  wearing  them 
deeper ;  after  these  again  some  Lapp  gained  scent  of 
the  path,  and  took  that  way  from  field  to  field,  look- 
ing to  his  reindeer.  Thus  was  made  the  road 
through  the  great  Almenning  —  the  common  tracts 
without  an  owner;  no-man's-land. 

The  man  comes,  walking  toward  the  north.  He 
bears  a  sack,  the  first  sack,  carrying  food  and  some 
few  implements.  A  strong,  coarse  fellow,  with  a 
red  iron  beard,  and  little  scars  on  face  and  hands; 
sites  of  old  wounds  —  were  they  gained  in  toil  or 
fight?  Maybe  the  man  has  been  in  prison,  and  is 
looking  for  a  place  to  hide ;  or  a  philosopher,  maybe, 
in  search  of  peace.  This  or  that,  he  comes ;  the  fig- 
ure of  a  man  in  this  great  solitude.  He  trudges  on; 
bird  and  beast  are  silent  all  about  him;  now  and 
again  he  utters  a  word  or  two ;  speaking  to  himself. 
"  Eyah  —  well,  well  .  .  ." — so  he  speaks  to  him- 
self. Here  and  there,  where  the  moors  give  place 

7 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

to  a  kindlier  spot,  an  open  space  in  the  midst  of  the 
forest,  he  lays  down  the  sack  and  goes  exploring; 
after  a  while  he  returns,  heaves  the  sack  to  his  shoul- 
der again,  and  trudges  on.  So  through  the  day, 
noting  time  by  the  sun;  night  falls,  and  he  throws 
himself  down  on  the  heather,  resting  on  one  arm. 

A  few  hours'  rest,  and  he  is  on  the  move  again : 
"  Eyah,  well  .  .  ." — moving  northward  again,  not- 
ing time  by  the  sun ;  a  meal  of  barley  cakes  and  goats' 
milk  cheese,  a  drink  of  water  from  the  stream,  and 
on  again.  This  day  too  he  journeys,  for  there  are 
many  kindly  spots  in  the  woods  to  be  explored. 
What  is  he  seeking?  A  place,  a  patch  of  ground? 
An  emigrant,  maybe,  from  the  homestead  tracts;  he 
keeps  his  eyes  alert,  looking  out;  now  and  again  he 
climbs  to  the  top  of  a  hill,  looking  out.  The  sun 
goes  down  once  more. 

He  moves  along  the  western  side  of  a  valley; 
wooded  ground,  with  leafy  trees  among  the  spruce 
and  pine,  and  grass  beneath.  Hours  of  this,  and 
twilight  is  falling,  but  his  ear  catches  the  faint  purl 
of  running  water,  and  it  heartens  him  like  the  voice 
of  a  living  thing.  He  climbs  the  slope,  and  sees 
the  valley  half  in  darkness  below;  beyond,  the  sky 
to  the  south.  He  lies  down  to  rest. 

The  morning  shows  him  a  range  of  pasture  and 
woodland.  He  moves  down,  and  there  is  a  green 
hillside;  far  below,  a  glimpse  of  the  stream,  and  a 
hare  bounding  across.  The  man  nods  his  head,  as  it 
were  approvingly  —  the  stream  is  not  so  broad  but 
that  a  hare  may  cross  it  at  a  bound.  A  white  grouse 

8 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

sitting  close  upon  its  nest  starts  up  at  his  feet  with 
an  angry  hiss,  and  he  nods  again:  feathered  game 
and  fur  —  a  good  spot  this.  Heather,  bilberry,  and 
cloudberry  cover  the  ground;  there  are  tiny  ferns, 
and  the  seven-pointed  star  flowers  of  the  winter- 
green.  Here  and  there  he  stops  to  dig  with  an  iron 
tool,  and  finds  good  mould,  or  peaty  soil,  manured 
with  the  rotted  wood  and  fallen  leaves  of  a  thou- 
sand years.  He  nods,  to  say  that  he  has  found  him- 
self a  place  to  stay  and  live:  ay,  he  will  stay  here 
and  live.  Two  days  he  goes  exploring  the  country 
round,  returning  each  evening  to  the  hillside.  He 
sleeps  at  night  on  a  bed  of  stacked  pine;  already 
he  feels  at  home  here,  with  a  bed  of  pine  beneath  an 
overhanging  rock. 

The  worst  of  his  task  had  been  to  find  the  place; 
this  no-man's  place,  but  his.  Now,  there  was  work 
to  fill  his  days.  He  started  at  once,  stripping  birch 
bark  in  the  woods  farther  off,  while  the  sap  was  still 
in  the  trees.  The  bark  he  pressed  and  dried,  and 
when  he  had  gathered  a  heavy  load,  carried  it  all 
the  miles  back  to  the  village,  to  be  sold  for  building. 
Then  back  to  the  hillside,  with  new  sacks  of  food 
and  implements;  flour  and  pork,  a  cooking-pot,  a 
spade  —  out  and  back  along  the  way  he  had  come, 
carrying  loads  all  the  time.  A  born  carrier  of  loads, 
a  lumbering  barge  of  a  man  in  the  forest  —  oh,  as  if 
he  loved  his  calling,  tramping  long  roads  and  carry- 
ing heavy  burdens;  as  if  life  without  a  load  upon 

(  one's  shoulders  were  a  miserable  thing,  no  life  for 

\  him. 

9 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

One  day  he  came  up  with  more  than  the  load  he 
bore;  came  leading  three  goats  in  a  leash.  He  was 
proud  of  his  goats  as  if  they  had  been  horned  cat- 
tle, and  tended  them  kindly.  Then  came  the  first 
stranger  passing,  a  nomad  Lapp;  at  sight  of  the 
goats,  he  knew  that  this  was  a  man  who  had  come  to 
stay,  and  spoke  to  him. 

"  You  going  to  live  here  for  good?  " 

"  Ay,"  said  the  man. 

"  What's  your  name?  " 

"  Isak.  You  don't  know  of  a  woman  body  any- 
where'd  come  and  help?  " 

"  No.     But  I'll  say  a  word  of  it  to  all  I  meet." 

"  Ay,  do  that.  Say  I've  creatures  here,  and  none 
to  look  to  them." 

The  Lapp  went  on  his  way.  Isak  —  ay,  he  would 
say  a  word  of  that.  The  man  on  the  hillside  was  no 
runaway;  he  had  told  his  name.  A  runaway?  He 
would  have  been  found.  Only  a  worker,  and  a 
hardy  one.  He  set  about  cutting  winter  fodder  for 
his  goats,  clearing  the  ground,  digging  a  field,  shift- 
ing stones,  making  a  wall  of  stones.  By  the  autumn 
he  had  built  a  house  for  himself,  a  hut  of  turf,  sound 
and  strong  and  warm;  storms  could  not  shake  it, 
and  nothing  could  burn  it  down.  Here  was  a  home ; 
he  could  go  inside  and  shut  the  door,  and  stay  there ; 
could  stand  outside  on  the  door-slab,  the  owner  of 
that  house,  if  any  should  pass  by.  There  were  two 
rooms  in  the  hut;  for  himself  at  the  one  end,  and  for 
his  beasts  at  the  other.  Farthest  in,  against  the  wall 
of  rock,  was  the  hayloft.  Everything  was  there. 

10 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Two  more  Lapps  come  by,  father  and  son.  They 
stand  resting  with  both  hands  on  their  long  staves, 
taking  stock  of  the  hut  and  the  clearing,  noting  the 
sound  of  the  goat-bells  up  on  the  hillside. 

"  Goddag,"  say  the  Lapps.  "  And  here's  fine  folk 
come  to  live."  Lapps  talk  that  way,  with  flattering 
words. 

"  You  don't  know  of  any  woman  hereabouts  to 
help?  "  says  Isak,  thinking  always  of  but  one  thing. 

"Woman  to  help?  No.  But  we'll  say  a  word 
of  it." 

"  Ay,  if  you'd  be  so  good.  That  I've  a  house  and 
a  bit  of  ground  here,  and  goats,  but  no  woman  to 
help.  Say  that." 

Oh,  he  had  sought  about  for  a  woman  to  help  each 
time  he  had  been  down  to  the  village  with  his  loads 
of  bark,  but  there  was  none  to  be  found.  They 
would  look  at  him,  a  widow  or  an  old  unmarried  one 
or  so,  but  all  afraid  to  offer,  whatever  might  be  in 
their  minds.  Isak  couldn't  tell  why.  Couldn't  tell 
why?  Who  would  go  as  help  to  live  with  a  man  in 
the  wilds,  ever  so  many  miles  away  —  a  whole  day's 
journey  to  the  nearest  neighbour?  And  the  man 
himself  was  no  way  charming  or  pleasant  by  his 
looks,  far  from  it;  and  when  he  spoke  it  was  no  tenor 
with  eyes  to  heaven,  but  a  coarse  voice,  something 
like  a  beast's. 

Well,  he  would  have  to  manage  alone. 

In  winter,  he  made  great  wooden  troughs,  and 
sold  them  in  the  village,  carrying  sacks  of  food  and 
tools  back  through  the  snow;  hard  days  when  he  was 

II 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

tied  to  a  load.  There  were  the  goats,  and  none  to 
look  to  them ;  he  could  not  be  away  for  long.  And 
what  did  he  do?  Need  made  him  wise;  his  brain 
was  strong  and  little  used;  he  trained  it  up  to  ever 
more  and  more.  His  first  way  was  to  let  the  goats 
loose  before  starting  off  himself,  so  that  they  could 
get  a  full  feed  among  the  undergrowth  in  the  woods. 
But  he  found  another  plan.  He  took  a  bucket,  a 
great  vessel,  and  hung  it  up  by  the  river  so  that  a 
single  drop  fell  in  at  a  time,  taking  fourteen  hours  to 
fill  it.  When  it  was  full  to  the  brim,  the  weight  was 
right ;  the  bucket  sank,  and  in  doing  so,  pulled  a  line 
connected  with  the  hayloft;  a  trap-door  opened,  and 
three  bundles  of  fodder  came  through  —  the  goats 
were  fed. 

That  was  his  way. 

A  bright  idea;  an  inspiration,  maybe,  sent  from 
God.  The  man  had  none  to  help  him  but  himself. 
It  served  his  need  until  late  in  the  autumn;  then 
came  the  first  snow,  then  rain,  then  snow  again,  snow- 
ing all  the  time.  And  his  machine  went  wrong;  the 
bucket  was  filled  from  above,  opening  the  trap  too 
soon.  He  fixed  a  cover  over,  and  all  went  well 
again  for  a  time;  then  came  winter,  the  drop  of 
water  froze  to  an  icicle,  and  stopped  the  machine 
for  good. 

The  goats  must  do  as  their  master  —  learn  to  do 
without. 

Hard  times  —  the  man  had  need  of  help,  and 
there  was  none,  yet  still  he  found  a  way.  He 
worked  and  worked  at  his  home ;  he  made  a  window 

12 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

in  the  hut  with  two  panes  of  real  glass,  and  that  was 
a  bright  and  wonderful  day  in  his  life.  No  need  of 
lighting  fires  to  see;  he  could  sit  indoors  and  work 
at  his  wooden  troughs  by  daylight.  Better  days, 
brighter  days  .  .  .  eyah! 

He  read  no  books,  but  his  thoughts  were  often 
with  God;  it  was  natural,  coming  of  simplicity  and 
awe.  The  stars  in  the  sky,  the  wind  in  the  trees, 
the  solitude  and  the  wide-spreading  snow,  the  might 
of  earth  and  over  earth  filled  him  many  times  a  day 
with  a  deep  earnestness.  He  was  a  sinner  and 
feared  God;  on  Sundays  he  washed  himself  out  of 
reverence  for  the  holy  day,  but  worked  none  the  less 
as  through  the  week. 

Spring  came;  he  worked  on  his  patch  of  ground, 
and  planted  potatoes.  His  live  stock  multiplied ;  the 
two  she-goats  had  each  had  twins,  making  seven  in 
all  about  the  place.  He  made  a  bigger  shed  for 
them,  ready  for  further  increase,  and  put  a  couple 
of  glass  panes  in  there  too.  Ay,  'twas  lighter  and 
brighter  now  in  every  way. 

And  then  at  last  came  help;  the  woman  he  needed. 
She  tacked  about  for  a  long  time,  this  way  and  that 
across  the  hillside,  before  venturing  near;  it  was 
evening  before  she  could  bring  herself  to  come  down. 
And  then  she  came  —  a  big,  brown-eyed  girl,  full- 
built  and  coarse,  with  good,  heavy  hands,  and  rough 
hide  brogues  on  her  feet  as  if  she  had  been  a  Lapp, 
and  a  calfskin  bag  slung  from  her  shoulders.  Not 
altogether  young;  speaking  politely;  somewhere  near- 
ing  thirty. 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

There  was  nothing  to  fear;  but  she  gave  him 
greeting  and  said  hastily:  "  I  was  going  cross  the 
hills,  and  took  this  way,  that  was  all." 

"  Ho,"  said  the  man.  He  could  barely  take  her 
meaning,  for  she  spoke  in  a  slovenly  way;  also,  she 
kept  her  face  turned  aside. 

"  Ay,"  said  she,  "  'tis  a  long  way  to  come." 

"  Ay,  it's  that,"  says  the  man.  "  Cross  the  hills, 
you  said?  " 

"  Yes." 

"And  what  for?" 

"  I've  my  people  there." 

"  Eh,  so  you've  your  people  there?  And  what's 
your  name?  " 

"  Inger.     And  what's  yours?  " 

"  Isak." 

"  Isak?  H'm.   D'you  live  here  yourself ,  maybe  ?" 

"  Ay,  here,  such  as  it  is." 

"  Why,  'tis  none  so  bad,"  said  she  to  please  him. 

Now  he  had  grown  something  clever  to  think  out 
the  way  of  things,  and  it  struck  him  then  she'd  come 
for  that  very  business  and  no  other;  had  started  out 
two  days  back  just  to  come  here.  Maybe  she  had 
heard  of  his  wanting  a  woman  to  help. 

"  Go  inside  a  bit  and  rest  your  feet,"  said  he. 

They  went  into  the  hut  and  took  a  bit  of  the  food 
she  had  brought,  and  some  of  his  goats'  milk  to 
drink;  then  they  made  coffee,  that  she  had  brought 
with  her  in  a  bladder.  Settled  down  comfortably 
over  their  coffee  until  bedtime.  And  in  the  night, 
he  lay  wanting  her,  and  she  was  willing. 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

She  did  not  go  away  next  morning;  all  that  day  she 
did  not  go,  but  helped  about  the  place;  milked  the 
goats,  and  scoured  pots  and  things  with  fine  sand, 
and  got  them  clean.  She  did  not  go  away  at  all. 
Inger  was  her  name.  And  Isak  was  his  name. 

And  now  it  was  another  life  for  the  solitary  man. 
True,  this  wife  of  his  had  a  curious  slovenly  way  of 
speech,  and  always  turning  her  face  aside,  by  reason 
of  a  hare-lip  that  she  had,  but  that  was  no  matter. 
Save  that  her  mouth  was  disfigured,  she  would 
hardly  have  come  to  him  at  all;  he  might  well  be 
grateful  for  that  she  was  marked  with  a  hare-lip. 
And  as  to  that,  he  himself  was  no  beauty.  Isak 
with  the  iron  beard  and  rugged  body,  a  grim  and 
surly  figure  of  a  man;  ay,  as  a  man  seen  through  a 
flaw  in  the  window-pane.  His  look  was  not  a  gentle 
one;  as  if  Barabbas  might  break  loose  at  any  min- 
ute. It  was  a  wonder  Inger  herself  did  not  run 
away. 

She  did  not  run  away.  When  he  had  been  out, 
and  came  home  again,  there  was  Inger  at  the  hut; 
the  two  were  one,  the  woman  and  the  hut. 

It  was  another  mouth  for  him  to  feed,  but  no  loss 
in  that;  he  had  more  freedom  now,  and  could  go  and 
stay  as  he  needed.  And  there  were  matters  to  be 
looked  to  away  from  home.  There  was  the  river; 
pleasant  to  look  at,  and  deep  and  swift  besides;  a 
river  not  to  be  despised;  it  must  come  from  some  big 
water  up  in  the  hills.  He  got  himself  some  fishing 
gear  and  went  exploring;  in  the  evening  he  came  back 
with  a  basket  of  trout  and  char.  This  was  a  great 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

thing  to  Inger,  and  a  marvel ;  she  was  overwhelmed, 
being  no  way  used  to  fine  dishes.  She  clapped  her 
hands  and  cried  out :"  Why !  wherever  .  .  ."  And 
she  was  not  slow  to  see  how  he  was  pleased  at  her 
surprise,  and  proud  of  it,  for  she  said  more  in  the 
same  strain  —  oh,  she  had  never  seen  the  like,  and 
how  had  he  ever  managed  to  find  such  things ! 

Inger  was  a  blessing,  too,  in  other  ways.  No 
clever  head  nor  great  in  wit,  maybe  —  but  she  had 
two  lambing  ewes  with  some  of  her  kinsfolk,  and 
brought  them  down.  It  was  the  best  they  could  have 
wished  for  at  the  hut;  sheep  with  wool  and  lambs, 
four  new  head  to  their  stock  about  the  place;  it  was 
growing,  getting  bigger;  a  wonder  and  a  marvel  how 
their  stock  was  grown.  And  Inger  brought  more; 
clothes,  and  little  trifles  of  her  own,  a  looking-glass, 
and  a  string  of  pretty  glass  beads,  a  spinning-wheel, 
and  carding-combs.  Why,  if  she  went  on  that  gait, 
the  hut  would  soon  be  filled  from  floor  to  roof,  and 
no  room  for  more !  Isak  was  astonished  in  his  turn 
at  all  this  wealth  of  goods,  but  being  a  silent  man, 
and  slow  to  speak,  he  said  nothing,  only  shambled  out 
to  the  door-slab  and  looked  at  the  weather,  and 
shambled  in  again.  Ay,  he  had  been  lucky  indeed; 
he  felt  himself  more  and  more  in  love,  or  drawn 
towards  her,  or  whatever  it  might  be. 

"  You've  no  call  to  fetch  along  all  such  stuff," 
said  he.  "  'Tis  more  than's  needed." 

"  I've  more  if  I  like  to  fetch  it.  And  there's 
Uncle  Sivert  besides  —  you've  heard  of  him?  " 

"  No." 

16 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  Why,  he's  a  rich  man,  and  district  treasurer  be- 
sides." 

makes  a  fool  of  the  wise.     Isak  felt  he 


must  do  something  grand  himself,  and  overdid  it. 
'  What  I  was  going  to  say;  you've  no  need  to  bother 
with  hoeing  potatoes.     I'll  do  it  myself  the  evening, 
when  I  come  home." 

And  he  took  his  ax  and  went  off  to  the  woods. 

She  heard  him  felling  in  the  woods,  not  so  far 
off  ;  she  could  hear  from  the  crash  that  he  was  felling 
big  timber.  She  listened  for  a  while,  and  then  went 
out  to  the  potato  field  and  set  to  work  hoeing.  Love 
inake^foplswise. 

Isak  came  home  in  the  evening,  hauling  a  huge 
trunk  by  a  rope.  Oh,  that  simple  and  innocent  Isak, 
he  made  all  the  noise  he  could  with  his  tree-trunk, 
and  coughed  and  hemmed,  all  for  her  to  come  out 
and  wonder  at  him.  And  sure  enough  : 

"  Why,  you're  out  of  your  senses,"   said  Inger 
when  she  came  out.     "  Is  that  work  for  a  man  sin- 
gle-handed? "     He  made  no  answer;  wouldn't  have 
said  a  word  for  anything.     To  do  a  little  more  than  1 
was  work  for  a  man  single-handed  was  nothing  to  y 
speak  of  —  nothing  at  all.     A  stick  of  timber  — 
huh!     "And  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  it?" 
she  asked. 

"  Oh,  we'll  see,"  he  answered  carelessly,  as  if 
scarcely  heeding  she  was  there. 

But  when  he  saw  that  she  had  hoed  the  potatoes 
after  all  he  was  not  pleased.  It  was  as  if  she  had 
done  almost  as  much  as  he;  and  that  was  not  to  his 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

liking.  He  slipped  the  rope  from  the  tree-trunk  and 
went  off  with  it  once  more. 

"  What,  haven't  you  done  yet?  " 

"  No,"  said  he  gruffly. 

And  he  came  back  with  another  stick  like  the  last, 
only  with  no  noise  nor  sign  of  being  out  of  breath; 
hauled  it  up  to  the  hut  like  an  ox,  and  left  it  there. 

That  summer  he  felled  a  mass  of  timber,  and 
brought  it  to  the  hut. 


18 


Chapter  II 


INGER  packed  up  some  food  one  day  in  her  calf- 
skin bag.  "  I'd  thought  of  going  across  to  see 
my  people,  just  how  they're  faring." 

"  Ay,"  said  Isak. 

"  I  must  have  a  bit  of  talk  with  them  about 
things." 

Isak  did  not  go  out  at  once  to  see  her  off,  but 
waited  quite  a  while.  And  when  at  last  he  shambled 
out,  looking  never  the  least  bit  anxious,  never  the 
least  bit  miserable  and  full  of  fear,  Inger  was  all  but 
vanished  already  through  the  fringe  of  the  forest. 

"  Hem !  "  He  cleared  his  throat,  and  called, 
"Will  you  be  coming  back  maybe?"  He  had  not 
meant  to  ask  her  that,  but  .  .  . 

"  Coming  back?  Why,  what's  in  your  mind? 
Of  course  I'll  be  coming  back." 

"  H'm." 

So  he  was  left  alone  again  —  eyah,  well  ...  I 
With  his  strength,  and  the  love  of  work  that  was  in 
him,  he  could  not  idle  in  and  out  about  the  hut  doing 
nothing;  he  set  to,  clearing  timber,  felling  straight, 
good  sticks,  and  cutting  them  flat  on  two  sides.  He 
worked  at  this  all  through  the  day,  then  he  milked 
the  goats  and  went  to  bed. 

Sadly  bare  and  empty  now  in  the  hut;  a  heavy 
silence  clung  about  the  peat  walls  and  the  earthen 

19 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

floor;  a  deep  and  solemn  loneliness.  Spinning-wheel 
and  carding-combs  were  in  their  place;  the  beads, 
too,  were  safe  as  they  had  been,  stowed  away  in  a  bag 
under  the  roof.  Inger  had  taken  nothing  of  her 
belongings.  But  Isak,  unthinkably  simple  as  he  was, 
grew  afraid  of  the  dark  in  the  light  summer  nights, 
and  saw  Shapes  and  Things  stealing  past  the  win- 
dow. He  got  up  before  dawn,  about  two  o'clock 
by  the  light,  and  ate  his  breakfast,  a  mighty  dish  of 
porridge  to  last  the  day,  and  save  the  waste  of  time 
in  cooking  more.  In  the  evening  he  turned  up  new 
ground,  to  make  a  bigger  field  for  the  potatoes. 

Three  days  he  worked  with  spade  and  ax  by  turns; 
Inger  should  be  coming  on  the  next.  'Twould  be 
but  reasonable  to  have  a  platter  of  fish  for  her  when 
she  came  —  but  the  straight  road  to  the  water  lay 
by  the  way  she  would  come,  and  it  might  seem  .  .  . 
So  he  went  a  longer  way;  a  new  way,  over  the  hills 
where  he  had  never  been  before.  Grey  rock  and 
brown,  and  strewed  about  with  bits  of  heavy  stone, 
heavy  as  copper  or  lead.  There  might  be  many 
things  in  those  heavy  stones;  gold  or  silver,  like  as 
not  —  he  had  no  knowledge  of  such  things,  and  did 
not  care.  He  came  to  the  water;  the  fly  was  up, 
and  the  fish  were  biting  well  that  night.  He  brought 
home  a  basket  of  fish  that  Inger  would  open  her  eyes 
to  see !  Going  back  in  the  morning  by  the  way  he 
had  come,  he  picked  up  a  couple  of  the  heavy  little 
stones  among  the  hills ;  they  were  brown,  with  specks 
of  dark  blue  here  and  there,  and  wondrous  heavy  in 
the  hand. 

20 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Inger  had  not  come,  and  did  not  come.  This  was 
the  fourth  day.  He  milked  the  goats  as  he  had 
used  to  do  when  he  lived  alone  with  them  and  had 
no  other  to  help;  then  he  went  up  to  a  quarry  near 
by  and  carried  down  stones;  great  piles  of  carefully 
chosen  blocks  and  flakes,  to  build  a  wall.  He  was 
busy  with  no  end  of  things. 

On  the  fifth  evening,  he  turned  in  to  rest  with  a 
little  fear  at  his  heart  —  but  there  were  the  carding- 
combs  and  spinning-wheel,  and  the  string  of  beads. 
Sadly  empty  and  bare  in  the  hut,  and  never  a  sound; 
the  hours  were  long,  and  when  at  last  he  did  hear 
something  like  a  sound  of  footsteps  outside,  he  told 
himself  that  it  was  fancy,  nothing  more.  "  Eyah, 
Herregud! "  l  he  murmured,  desolate  in  spirit. 
And  Isak  was  not  one  to  use  words  lightly.  There 
was  the  tramping  of  feet  again  outside,  and  a  mo- 
ment after  something  gliding  past  the  window;  some- 
thing with  horns,  something  alive.  He  sprang  up, 
over  to  the  door,  and  lo,  a  vision!  "  God  or  the 
devil,"  muttered  Isak,  who  did  not  use  words  lightly. 
He  saw  a  cow;  Inger  and  a  cow,  vanishing  into  the 
shed. 

If  he  had  not  stood  there  himself  and  heard  it  — 
Inger  talking  softly  to  the  cow  in  the  shed  —  he 
would  not  have  believed.  But  there  he  stood.  And 
all  at  once  a  black  misgiving  came  into  his  mind:  a 
clever  wife,  ay,  a  manager  of  wonders  —  but,  after 
all  ...  No,  it  was  too  much,  and  that  was  the  only 

1  Literally,  "Lord  God."     The  word  is  frequently  used,  as  here, 
in  a  sense  of  resignation,  as  it  were  a  sigh. 

21 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

word  for  it.  A  spinning-wheel  and  carding-combs 
at  a  pinch;  even  the  beads  perhaps,  though  they  were 
over  fine  to  be  come  by  in  any  way  proper  and  natu- 
ral. But  a  cow,  picked  up  straying  on  the  road, 
maybe,  or  in  a  field  —  it  would  be  missed  in  no  time, 
and  have  to  be  found. 

Inger  stepped  out  of  the  shed,  and  said  with  a 
proud  little  laugh : 

"  It's  only  me.     I've  brought  my  cow  along." 

"  H'm,"  said  Isak. 

"  It  was  that  made  me  so  long  —  I  couldn't  go 
but  softly  with  her  over  the  hills." 

"  And  so  you've  brought  a  cow?  "  said  he. 

"  Yes,"  said  she,  all  ready  to  burst  with  greatness 
and  riches  on  earth.  "  Don't  you  believe  me,  per- 
haps?" 

Isak  feared  the  worst,  but  made  no  sign,  and  only 
said: 

"  Come  inside  and  get  something  to  eat." 

"  Did  you  see  her?     Isn't  she  a  pretty  cow?  " 

"  Ay,  a  fine  cow,"  said  Isak.  And  speaking  as 
carelessly  as  he  could,  he  asked,  "  Where  d'you  get 
her?" 

"  Her  name's  Goldenhorns.  What's  that  wall  to 
be  for  you've  been  building  up  here?  You'll  work 
yourself  to  death,  you  will.  Oh,  come  and  look  at 
the  cow,  now,  won't  you?  " 

They  went  out  to  look,  and  Isak  was  in  his  under- 
clothes, but  that  was  no  matter.  They  looked  and 
looked  the  cow  all  over  carefully,  in  every  part,  and 

22 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

noted  all  the  markings,  head  and  shoulders,  buttocks 
and  thighs,  where  it  was  red  and  white,  and  how  it 
stood. 

"  How  old  d'you  think  she  might  be?  "  asked  Isak 
cautiously. 

"  Think?  Why,  she's  just  exactly  a  tiny  way  on 
in  her  fourth  year.  I  brought  her  up  myself,  and 
they  all  said  it  was  the  sweetest  calf  they'd  ever  seen. 
But  will  there  be  feed  enough  here,  d'you  think?  " 

Isak  began  to  believe,  as  he  was  only  too  willing 
to  do,  that  all  was  well.  "  As  for  the  feed,  why, 
there'll  be  feed  enough,  never  fear." 

Then  they  went  indoors  to  eat  and  drink  and 
make  an  evening  together.  They  lay  awake  talking 
of  Cow;  of  the  great  event.  "  And  isn't  she  a  dear 
cow,  too?  Her  second's  on  the  way.  And  her 
name's  Goldenhorns.  Are  you  asleep,  Isak?  " 

"  No." 

"And  what  do  you  think,  she  knew  me  again; 
knew  me  at  once,  and  followed  me  like  a  lamb.  We 
lay  up  in  the  hills  a  bit  last  night." 

"Ho?" 

"  But  she'll  have  to  be  tied  up  through  the  sum- 
mer, all  the  same,  or  she'll  be  running  off.  A  cow's 
a  cow." 

"  Where's  she  been  before?  "  asked  Isak  at  last. 

"  Why,  with  my  people,  where  she  belonged. 
And  they  were  quite  sorry  to  lose  her,  I  can  tell  you ; 
and  the  little  ones  cried  when  I  took  her  away." 

Could  she  be  making  it  all  up,  and  coming  out  with 

23 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

it  so  pat?  No,  it  wasn't  thinkable.  It  must  be 
true,  the  cow  was  hers.  Ho,  they  were  getting  well- 
to-do,  with  this  hut  of  theirs,  this  farm  of  theirs; 
why,  'twas  good  enough  for  any  one.  Ay,  they'd 
as  good  as  all  they  could  wish  for  already.  Oh, 
that  Inger;  he  loved  her  and  she  loved  him  again; 
they  were  frugal  folk;  they  lived  in  primitive  wise, 
and  lacked  for  nothing.  "  Let's  go  to  sleep !  " 
And  they  went  to  sleep.  And  wakened  in  the  morn- 
ing to  another  day,  with  things  to  look  at,  matters 
to  see  to,  once  again;  ay,  toil  and  pleasure,  ups  and  J 

/aowns,  the  way  of  life. 

"-x  As,  for  instance,  with  those  timber  baulks  — 
should  he  try  to  fit  them  up  together?  Isak  had 
kept  his  eyes  about  him  down  in  the  village,  with  that 
very  thing  in  mind,  and  seen  how  it  was  done;  he 
could  build  with  timber  himself,  why  not?  More- 
over, it  was  a  call  upon  him;  it  must  be  done. 
Hadn't  they  a  farm  with  sheep,  a  farm  with  a  cow 
already,  goats  that  were  many  already  and  would  be 
more?  —  their  live  stock  alone  was  crowding  them 
out  of  the  turf  hut;  something  must  be  done.  And 
best  get  on  with  it  at  once,  while  the  potatoes  were 
still  in  flower,  and  before  the  haytime  began.  Inger 
would  have  to  lend  a  hand  here  and  there. 

Isak  wakes  in  the  night  and  gets  up,  Inger  sleep- 
ing fine  and  sound  after  her  long  tramp,  and  out  he 
goes  to  the  cowshed.  Now  it  must  not  be  thought 
that  he  talked  to  Cow  in  any  obsequious  and  disgust- 
ful flattery;  no,  he  patted  her  decently,  and  looked 
her  over  once  more  in  every  part,  to  see  if  there 

24 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

should,  by  chance,  be  any  sign,  any  mark  of  her  be- 
longing to  strange  owners.  No  mark,  no  sign,  and 
Isak  steals  away  relieved. 

There  lies  the  timber.  He  falls  to,  rolling  the 
baulks,  then  lifting  them,  setting  them  lip  against 
the  wall  in  a  framework;  one  big  frame  for  a  par- 
lour, and  a  smaller  one  —  there  must  be  a  room  to 
sleep  in.  It  was  heavy  work,  hard-breathing  work, 
and  his  mind  being  set  on  it,  he  forgot  the  time. 
There  comes  a  smoke  from  the  roof-hole  of  the  hut, 
and  Inger  steps  out  and  calls  to  breakfast. 

"  And  what  are  you  busy  with  now?  "  asked  Inger. 

"  You're  early  about,"  says  Isak,  and  that  was  all. 

Ho,  that  Isak  with  his  secrets  and  his  lordly  ways ! 
But  it  pleased  him,  maybe,  to  have  her  asking  and 
wondering,  and  curious  about  his  doings.  He  ate  a 
bit,  and  sat  for  a  while  in  the  hut  before  going  out 
again.  What  could  he  be  waiting  for? 

"  H'm,"  says  he  at  last,  getting  up.  "  This  won't 
do.  Can't  sit  here  idling  today.  Work  to  be 
done." 

"  Seems  like  you're  building,"  says  Inger. 
"What?" 

And  he  answered  condescendingly,  this  great  man 
who  went  about  building  with  timber  all  by  himself, 
he  answered:  "Why,  you  can  see  as  much,  I  take 
it." 

"  Yes.  .  .  .  Yes,  of  course." 

"  Building  —  why,  there's  no  help  for  it  as  I  can 
see.  Here's  you  come  bringing  a  whole  cow  to  the 
farm  —  that  means  a  cowshed,  I  suppose?  " 

25 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Poor  Inger,  not  so  eternally  wise  as  he,  as  Isak, 
that  lord  of  creation.  And  this  was  before  she 
learned  to  know  him,  and  reckon  with  his  way  of 
putting  things.  Says  Inger: 

"  Why,  it's  never  a  cowshed  you're  building, 
surely?  " 

"  Ho,"  says  he. 

"  But  you  don't  mean  it  ?  I  —  I  thought  you'd  be 
building  a  house  first." 

"  Think  so?  "  says  Isak,  putting  up  a  face  as  if 
he'd  never  in  life  have  thought  of  that  himself. 

"  Why,  yes.     And  put  the  beasts  in  the  hut." 

Isak  thought  for  a  bit.  "  Ay,  maybe  'twould  be 
best  so." 

"  There,"  says  Inger,  all  glad  and  triumphant. 
"  You  see  I'm  some  good  after  all." 

"  Ay,  that's  true.  And  what'd  you  say  to  a  house 
with  two  rooms  in?  " 

"  Two  rooms?  Oh  .  .  .  !  Why,  'twould  be 
just  like  other  folks.  Do  you  think  we  could?  " 

They  did.  Isak  he  went  about  building,  notching 
his  baulks  and  fitting  up  his  framework;  also  he  man- 
aged a  hearth  and  fireplace  of  picked  stones,  though 
this  last  was  troublesome,  and  Isak  himself  was  not 
always  pleased  with  his  work.  Haytime  came,  and 
he  was  forced  to  climb  down  from  his  building  and 
go  about  the  hillsides  far  and  near,  cutting  grass  and 
bearing  home  the  hay  in  mighty  loads.  Then  one 
rainy  day  he  must  go  down  to  the  village. 

"  What  you  want  in  the  village?  " 

"  Well,  I  can't  say  exactly  as  yet.  .  .  ." 
26 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

He  set  off,  and  stayed  away  two  days,  and  came 
back  with  a  cooking-stove  —  a  barge  of  a  man  surg- 
ing up  through  the  forest  with  a  whole  iron  stove 
on  his  back.  "  'Tis  more  than  a  man  can  do,"  said 
Inger.  "  You'll  kill  yourself  that  gait."  But  Isak 
pulled  down  the  stone  hearth,  that  didn't  look  so 
well  in  the  new  house,  and  set  up  the  cooking-stove 
in  its  place.  "  'Tisn't  every  one  has  a  cooking- 
stove,"  said  Inger.  "  Of  all  the  wonders,  how  we're 
getting  on!  .  .  ." 

Haymaking  still;  Isak  bringing  in  loads  and 
masses  of  hay,  for  woodland  grass  is  not  the  same 
as  meadow  grass,  more's  the  pity,  but  poorer  by  far. 
It  was  only  on  rainy  days  now  that  he  could  spare 
time  for  his  building;  'twas  a  lengthy  business,  and 
even  by  August,  when  all  the  hay  was  in,  safely  stored 
under  the  shelter  of  the  rock,  the  new  house  was  still 
but  half-way  done.  Then  by  September:  "This 
won't  do,"  said  Isak.  "  You'd  better  run  down  to 
the  village  and  get  a  man  to  help."  Inger  had  been 
something  poorly  of  late,  and  didn't  run  much  now, 
but  all  the  same  she  got  herself  ready  to  go. 

But  Isak  had  changed  his  mind  again;  had  put  on 
his  lordly  manner  again,  and  said  he  would  manage 
by  himself.  "  No  call  to  bother  with  other  folk," 
says  he;  "I  can  manage  it  alone." 

"  'Tis  more  than  one  man's  work,"  says  Inger. 
"  You'll  wear  yourself  out." 

"  Just  help  me  to  hoist  these  up,"  says  Isak,  and 
that  was  all. 

October  came,  and  Inger  had  to  give  up.  This 
27 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

was  a  hard  blow,  for  the  roof-beams  must  be  got  up 
at  any  cost,  and  the  place  covered  in  before  the  au- 
tumn rains;  there  was  not  a  day  to  be  lost.  What 
could  be  wrong  with  Inger?  Not  going  to  be  ill? 
She  would  make  cheese  now  and  then  from  the 
goats'  milk,  but  beyond  that  she  did  little  save  shift- 
ing Goldenhorns  a  dozen  times  a  day  where  she 
grazed. 

"  Bring  up  a  good-sized  basket,  or  a  box,"  she  had 
said,  "  next  time  you're  down  to  the  village." 

"  What  d'you  want  that  for?  "  asked  Isak. 

"  I'll  just  be  wanting  it,"  said  Inger. 

Isak  hauled  up  the  roof-beams  on  a  rope,  Inger 
guiding  them  with  one  hand;  it  seemed  a  help  just 
to  have  her  about.  Bit  by  bit  the  work  went  on; 
there  was  no  great  height  to  the  roof,  but  the  timber 
was  huge  and  heavy  for  a  little  house. 

The  weather  kept  fine,  more  or  less.  Inger  got 
the  potatoes  in  by  herself,  and  Isak  had  the  roofing 
done  before  the  rain  came  on  in  earnest.  The  goats 
were  brought  in  of  a  night  into  the  hut  and  all  slept 
there  together;  they  managed  somehow,  they  man- 
aged everyway,  and  did  not  grumble. 

Isak  was  getting  ready  for  another  journey  down 
to  the  village.  Said  Inger  very  humbly : 

"  Do  you  think  perhaps  you  could  bring  up  a 
good-sized  basket,  or  a  box?" 

"  I've  ordered  some  glass  windows,"  said  Isak. 
"  And  a  couple  of  painted  doors.  I'll  have  to  fetch 
them  up,"  said  he  in  his  lordly  way. 

28 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  Ay  well,  then.  It's  no  great  matter  about  the 
basket." 

"  What  did  you  want  with  a  basket?  What's  it 
for?" 

"  What's  it  for?  .  .  .  Oh,  haven't  you  eyes  in 
your  head!  " 

Isak  went  off  deep  in  thought.  Two  days  later 
he  came  back,  with  a  window  and  a  door  for  the 
parlour,  and  a  door  for  the  bedroom;  also  he  had 
hung  round  his  neck  in  front  a  good-sized  packing- 
case,  and  full  of  provisions  to  boot. 

"  You'll  carry  yourself  to  death  one  day,"  said 
Inger. 

"  Ho,  indeed !  "  Isak  was  very  far  indeed  from 
being  dead;  he  took  out  a  bottle  of  medicine  from 
his  pocket  —  naphtha  it  was  —  and  gave  it  to  Inger 
with  orders  to  take  it  regularly  and  get  well  again. 
And  there  were  the  windows  and  the  painted  doors 
that  he  could  fairly  boast  of;  he  set  to  work  at  once 
fitting  them  in.  Oh,  such  little  doors,  and  second- 
hand at  that,  but  painted  up  all  neat  and  fine  again  in 
red  and  white;  'twas  almost  as  good  as  having  pic- 
tures on  the  walls. 

And  now  they  moved  into  the  new  building,  and 
the  animals  had  the  turf  hut  to  themselves,  only  a 
lambing  ewe  was  left  with  Cow,  lest  she  should  feel 
lonely. 

They  had  done  well,  these  builders  in  the  waste; 
ay,  'twas  a  wonder  and  a  marvel  to  themselves. 


29 


Chapter  III 


ISAK  worked  on  the  land  until  the  frost  set  in; 
there  were  stones  and  roots  to  be  dug  up  and 
cleared  away,  and  the  meadow  to  be  levelled 
ready  for  next  year.  When  the  ground  hardened,  he 
left  his  field  work  and  became  a  woodman,  felling 
and  cutting  up  great  quantities  of  logs. 

"  What  do  you  want  with  all  these  logs?  "  Inger 
would  say. 

"  Oh,  they'll  be  useful  some  way,"  said  Isak  off- 
handedly, as  though  he  had  no  plan.  But  Isak  had 
a  plan,  never  fear.  Here  was  virgin  forest,  a  dense 
growth,  right  close  up  to  the  house,  a  barrier  hedg- 
ing in  his  fields  where  he  wanted  room.  Moreover, 
there  must  be  some  way  of  getting  the  logs  down  to 
the  village  that  winter;  there  were  folk  enough 
would  be  glad  of  wood  for  firing.  It  was  sound 
enough,  and  Isak  was  in  no  doubt;  he  stuck  to  his 
work  in  the  forest,  felling  trees  and  cutting  them 
up  into  logs. 

Inger  came  out  often,  to  watch  him  at  work.  He 
took  no  notice,  but  made  as  if  her  coming  were  no 
matter,  and  not  at  all  a  thing  he  wished  for  her  to 
do;  but  she  understood  all  the  same  that  it  pleased 
him  to  have  her  there.  They  had  a  strange  way, 
too,  of  speaking  to  each  other  at  times. 

30 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  Couldn't  you  find  things  to  do  but  come  out  here 
and  get  stark  frozen?  "  says  Isak. 

"  I'm  well  enough  for  me,"  says  Inger.  "  But  I 
can't  see  there's  any  living  sense  in  you  working  your- 
self to  death  like  you  do." 

"  Ho !  You  just  pick  up  that  coat  of  mine  there 
and  put  it  on  you." 

"  Put  on  your  coat?  Likely,  indeed.  I've  no 
time  to  sit  here  now,  with  Goldenhorns  ready  to  calve 
and  all." 

"  H'm.     Calving,  you  say?" 

"  As  if  you  didn't  know !  But  what  do  you  think 
now  about  that  same  calf.  Let  it  stay  and  be 
weaned,  maybe?  " 

"  Do  as  you  think;  'tis  none  of  my  business  with 
calves  and  things." 

"  Well,  'twould  be  a  pity  to  eat  up  calf,  seems 
to  me.  And  leave  us  with  but  one  cow  on  the 
place." 

"  Don't  seem  to  me  like  you'd  do  that  anyway," 
says  Isak. 

[      That  was  their  way.     Lonely  folk,  ugly  to  look 
I  at  and  overfull  of  growth,  but  a  blessing  for  each 
other,  for  the  beasts,  and  for  the  earth. 

And  Goldenhorns  calved.  A  great  day  in  the 
wilderness,  a  joy  and  a  delight.  They  gave  her 
flour-wash,  and  Isak  himself  saw  to  it  there  was  no 
stint  of  flour,  though  he  had  carried  it  all  the  way 
himself,  on  his  back.  And  there  lay  a  pretty  calf,  a 
beauty,  red-flanked  like  her  mother,  and  comically 
bewildered  at  the  miracle  of  coming  into  the  world. 

31 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

In  a  couple  of  years  she  would  be  having  calves  of 
her  own. 

'  'Twill  be  a  grand  fine  cow  when  she  grows  up," 
said  Inger.  "  And  what  are  we  to  call  her,  now  ?  I 
can't  think." 

Inger  was  childish  in  her  ways,  and  no  clever  wit 
for  anything. 

"  Call  her?  "  said  Isak.  "  Why,  Silverhorns,  of 
course;  what  else?  " 

The  first  snow  came.  As  soon  as  there  was  a 
passable  road,  Isak  set  out  for  the  village,  full  of 
concealment  and  mystery  as  ever,  when  Inger  asked 
his  errand.  And  sure  enough,  he  came  back  this 
time  with  a  new  and  unthinkable  surprise.  A  horse 
and  sledge,  nothing  less. 

"  Here's  foolishness,"  says  Inger.  "  And  you've 
not  stolen  it,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"Stolen  it?" 

"Well,  found  it,  then?" 

Now  if  only  he  could  have  said:  "  'Tis  my  horse 
—  our  horse.  .  .  ."  But  to  tell  the  truth,  he  had 
only  hired  it,  after  all.  Hired  horse  and  sledge  to 
cart  his  logs. 

Isak  drove  down  with  his  loads  of  firewood,  and 
brought  back  food,  herrings  and  flour.  And  one 
day  he  came  up  with  a  young  bull  on  the  sledge; 
bought  it  for  next  to  nothing,  by  reason  they  were 
getting  short  of  fodder  down  in  the  village.  Shaggy 
and  thin,  no  ways  a  beauty,  but  decently  built  for  all 
that,  and  wanted  no  more  than  proper  feed  to  set  it 
right.  And  with  a  cow  they  had  already  .  .  . 

32 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  What'll  you  be  bringing  up  next?  "  said  Inger. 

Isak  brought  up  a  host  of  things.  Brought  up 
planks  and  a  saw  he  had  got  in  exchange  for  timber; 
a  grindstone,  a  wafer  iron,  tools  —  all  in  exchange 
for  his  logs.  Inger  was  bursting  with  riches,  and 
said  each  time:  "  What,  more  things !  When  we've 
cattle  and  all  a  body  could  think  of !  " 

They  had  enough  to  meet  their  needs  for  no  little 
time  to  come,  and  were  well-to-do  folk.  What  was 
Isak  to  start  on  again  next  spring?  He  had  thought 
it  all  out,  tramping  down  beside  his  loads  of  wood 
that  winter;  he  would  clear  more  ground  over  the 
hillside  and  level  it  off,  cut  up  more  logs  to  dry 
through  the  summer,  and  take  down  double  loads 
when  the  snow  came  fit  for  sledging.  It  worked  out 
beautifully. 

But  there  was  another  matter  Isak  had  thought 
of  times  out  of  number:  that  Goldenhorns,  where 
had  she  come  from,  whose  had  she  been?  There 
was  never  a  wife  on  earth  like  Inger.  Ho !  a  wild 
thing  she  was,  that  let  him  do  as  he  pleased  with 
her,  and  was  glad  of  it.  But  —  suppose  one  day 
they  were  to  come  for  the  cow,  and  take  it  away  — 
and  worse,  maybe,  to  come  after?  What  was  it 
Inger  herself  had  said  about  the  horse :  "  You 
haven't  stolen  it,  I  suppose,  or  found  it?  "  That 
was  her  first  thought,  yes.  That  was  what  she  had 
said;  who  could  say  if  she  were  to  be  trusted  —  what 
should  he  do?  He  had  thought  of  it  all  many  a 
time.  And  here  he  had  brought  up  a  mate  him- 
self for  the  cow  —  for  a  stolen  cow,  maybe ! 

33 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

And  there  was  the  horse  he  would  have  to  return 
again.  A  pity — for  'twas  a  little  friendly  beast, 
and  grown  fond  of  them  already. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Inger  comfortingly.  "  Why, 
you've  done  wonders  already." 

"  Ay,  but  just  now  with  the  spring  coming  on  — 
and  I've  need  of  a  horse.  .  .  ." 

Next  morning  he  drove  off  quietly  with  the  last 
load,  and  was  away  two  days.  Coming  back  on 
foot  the  third  day,  he  stopped  as  he  neared  the 
house,  and  stood  listening.  There  was  a  curious 
noise  inside.  ...  A  child  crying  —  Eyah,  Herre- 
gud!  .  .  .  Well,  there  it  was ;  but  a  terrible  strange 
thing.  And  Inger  had  never  said  a  word. 

He  stepped  inside,  and  there  first  thing  of  all  was 
the  packing-case  —  the  famous  packing-case  that  he 
had  carried  home  slung  round  his  neck  in  front;  there 
it  was,  hung  up  by  a  string  at  each  end  from  the 
ceiling,  a  cradle  and  a  bedplace  for  the  child.  Inger 
was  up,  pottering  about  half-dressed  —  she  had 
milked  the  cow  and  the  goats,  as  it  might  have  been 
just  an  ordinary  day. 

The  child  stopped  crying.  "  You're  through  with 
it  already?  "  said  Isak. 

u  Ay,  I'm  through  with  it  now." 

"  H'm." 

"  It  came  the  first  evening  you  were  gone." 

"  H'm." 

"  I'd  only  to  get  my  things  off  and  hang  up  the 
cradle  there,  but  it  was  too  much  for  me,  like,  and 
I  had  to  lie  down." 

34 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  before?  " 

"  Why,  I  couldn't  say  to  a  minute  when  it'd  be. 
'Tis  a  boy." 

"  Ho,  a  boy." 

"  And  I  can't  for  the  life  of  me  think  what  we're 
to  call  him,"  said  Inger. 

Isak  peeped  at  the  little  red  face;  well  shaped  it 
was,  and  no  hare-lip,  and  a  growth  of  hair  all  thick 
on  the  head.  A  fine  little  fellow  for  his  rank  and 
station  in  a  packing-case;  Isak  felt  himself  curiously 
weak.  The  rugged  man  stood  there  with  a  miracle 
before  him;  a  thing  created  first  of  all  in  a  sacred 
mist,  showing  forth  now  in  life  with  a  little  face  like 
an  allegory.  Days  and  years,  and  the  miracle  would 
be  a  human  being. 

"  Come  and  have  your  food,"  said  Inger.  .  .  . 

Isak  is  a  woodman,  felling  trees  and  sawing  logs. 
He  is  better  off  now  than  before,  having  a  saw. 
He  works  away,  and  mighty  piles  of  wood  grow  up ; 
he  makes  a  street  of  them,  a  town,  built  up  of  stacks 
and  piles  of  wood.  Inger  is  more  about  the  house 
now,  and  does  not  come  out  as  before  to  watch  him 
at  his  work;  Isak  must  find  a  pretext  now  and  then 
to  slip  off  home  for  a  moment  instead.  Queer  to 
have  a  little  fellow  like  that  about  the  place !  Isak, 
of  course,  would  never  dream  of  taking  any  notice  — 
'twas  but  a  bit  of  a  thing  in  a  packing-case.  And  as 
for  being  fond  of  it  ...  But  when  it  cried,  well,  it 
was  only  human  nature  to  feel  just  a  little  something 
for  a  cry  like  that ;  a  little  tiny  cry  like  that. 

35 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"Don't  touch  him!"  says  Inger.  "With  your 
hands  all  messed  up  with  resin  and  all !  " 

"  Resin,  indeed !  "  says  Isak.  "  Why,  I  haven't 
had  resin  on  my  hands  since  I  built  this  house.  Give 
me  the  boy,  let  me  take  him  —  there,  he's  as  right 
as  can  be!  " 

Early  in  May  came  a  visitor.  A  woman  came 
over  the  hills  to  that  lonely  place  where  none  ever 
came;  she  was  of  Inger's  kinsfolk,  though  not  near, 
and  they  made  her  welcome. 

"  I  thought  I'd  just  look  in,"  she  says,  "  and  see 
how  Goldenhorns  gets  on  since  she  left  us." 

Inger  looks  at  the  child,  and  talks  to  it  in  a  little 
pitying  voice :  "  Ah,  there's  none  asks  how  he's  get- 
ting on,  that's  but  a  little  tiny  thing." 

"  Why,  as  for  that,  any  one  can  see  how  he's  get- 
ting on.  A  fine  little  lad  and  all.  And  who'd  have 
thought  it  a  year  gone,  Inger,  to  find  you  here  with 
house  and  husband  and  child  and  all  manner  of 
things."  *"*'#  J  *?] 

"  'Tis  no  doing  of  mine  to  praise.  But  there's 
one  sitting  there  that  took  me  as  I  was  and  no  more." 

"  And  wedded?  —  Not  wedded  yet,  no,  I  see." 

"  We'll  see  about  it,  the  time  this  little  man's  to 
be  christened,"  says  Inger.  "  We'd  have  been 
wedded  before,  but  couldn't  come  by  it,  getting  down 
to  a  church  and  all.  What  do  you  say,  Isak?" 

"  Wedded?  "  says  Isak.     "  Why,  yes,  of  course." 

"  But  if  as  you'd  help  us,  Oline,"  says  Inger. 

36 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  Just  to  come  up  for  a  few  days  in  the  off  time  once, 
and  look  to  the  creatures  here  while  we're  away?  " 

Ay,  Oline  would  do  that. 

"  We'll  see  it's  no  loss  to  you  after." 

Why,  as  to  that,  she'd  leave  it  to  them.  .  .  . 
"  And  you're  building  again,  I  see.  Now  what'll 
that  be  for?  Isn't  there  built  enough?  " 

Inger  sees  her  chance  and  puts  in  here :  "  Why, 
you  must  ask  him  about  that.  I'm  not  to  know." 

"  Building?  "  says  Isak.  "  Oh,  'tis  nothing  to 
speak  of.  A  bit  of  a  shed,  maybe,  if  we  should 
need  it.  What's  that  you  were  saying  about  Golden- 
horns  ?  You'd  like  to  see  her  ?  " 

They  go  across  to  the  cowshed,  and  there's  cow 
and  calf  to  show,  and  an  ox  to  boot.  The  visitor 
nods  her  head,  looking  at  the  beasts,  and  at  the 
shed;  all  fine  as  could  be,  and  clean  as  couldn't  be 
cleaner.  "  Trust  Inger  for  looking  after  creatures 
every  way,"  says  Oline. 

Isak  puts  a  question:  "Goldenhorns  was  at  your 
place  before?  " 

"  Ay,  from  a  calf.  Not  my  place,  though;  at  my 
son's.  But  'tis  all  the  same.  And  we've  her  mother 
still." 

Isak  had  not  heard  better  news  a  long  while;  it 
was  a  burden  lighter.  Goldenhorns  was  his  and 
Inger's  by  honest  right.  To  tell  the  truth,  he  had 
half  thought  of  getting  rid  of  his  trouble  in  a  sorry 
way;  to  kill  off  the  cow  that  autumn,  scrape  the  hide, 
bury  the  horns,  and  thus  make  away  with  all  trace 

37 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

of  Cow  Goldenhorns  in  this  life.  No  need  for  that 
now.  And  he  grew  mightily  proud  of  Inger  all  at 
once. 

"  Ay,  Inger,"  says  he.  "  She's  one  to  manage 
things,  that's  true.  There's  not  her  like  nor  equal 
to  be  found.  'Twas  a  poor  place  here  till  I  got  a 
woman  of  my  own,  as  you  might  say." 

"  Why,  'tis  but  natural  so,"  says  Oline. 

And  so  this  woman  from  across  the  hills,  a  soft- 
spoken  creature  with  her  wits  about  her,  and  by  name 
Oline,  she  stayed  with  them  a  couple  of  days,  and 
had  the  little  room  to  sleep  in.  And,  when  she  set 
out  for  home,  she  had  a  bundle  of  wool  that  Inger 
had  given  her,  from  the  sheep.  There  was  no  call 
to  hide  that  bundle  of  wool,  but  Oline  took  care  that 
Isak  should  not  see  it. 

Then  the  child  and  Isak  and  his  wife  again;  the 
same  world  again,  and  the  work  of  the  day,  with 
many  little  joys  and  big.  Goldenhorns  was  yielding 
well,  the  goats  had  dropped  their  kids  and  were 
yielding  well;  Inger  had  a  row  of  red  and  white 
cheeses  already,  stored  away  to  get  ripe.  It  was  her 
plan  to  save  up  cheeses  till  there  were  enough  to  buy 
a  loom.  Oh,  that  Inger;  she  knew  how  to  weave. 

And  Isak  built  a  shed  — •-  he  too  had  a  plan  of  his 
own,  no  doubt.  He  set  up  a  new  wing  built  out  from 
the  side  of  the  turf  hut,  with  double  panelling  boards, 
made  a  doorway  in  it,  and  a  neat  little  window  with 
four  panes;  laid  on  a  roof  of  outer  boards,  and  made 
do  with  that  till  the  ground  thawed  and  he  could  get 
turf.  All  that  was  useful  and  necessary;  no  floor- 

38 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

ing,  no  smooth-planed  walls,  but  Isak  had  fixed  up  a 
box  partition,  as  for  a  horse,  and  a  manger. 

It  was  nearing  the  end  of  May.  The  sun  had 
thawed  the  high  ground;  Isak  roofed  in  his  shed  with 
turf  and  it  was  finished.  Then  one  morning  he  ate 
a  meal  to  last  for  the  day,  took  some  more  food 
with  him,  shouldered  pick  and  spade,  and  went  down 
to  the  village. 

"  Bring  up  three  yards  of  cotton  print,  if  you  can," 
Inger  called  after  him. 

"  What  do  you  want  with  that?  "  said  Isak. 

Isak  was  long  away;  it  almost  seemed  as  if  he  had 
gone  for  good.  Inger  looked  at  the  weather  every 
day,  noting  the  way  of  the  wind,  as  if  she  were  ex- 
pecting a  sailing-ship;  she  went  out  at  nighttime  to 
listen;  even  thought  of  taking  the  child  on  her  arm 
and  going  after  him.  Then  at  last  he  came  back, 
with  a  horse  and  cart.  "  Ptrof  "  shouted  Isak  as  he 
drew  up ;  shouted  so  as  to  be  heard.  And  the  horse 
was  well  behaved,  and  stood  as  quiet  as  could  be, 
nodding  at  the  turf  hut  as  if  it  knew  the  place  again. 
Nevertheless,  Isak  must  call  out,  "  Hi,  come  and 
hold  the  horse  a  bit,  can't  you?  " 

Out  goes  Inger.  "  Where  is  it  now?  Oh,  Isak, 
have  you  hired  him  again?  Where  have  you  been 
all  this  time?  'Tis  six  days  gone." 

"  Where  d'you  think  I'd  be  ?  Had  to  go  all  sorts 
of  ways  round  to  find  a  road  for  this  cart  of  mine. 
Hold  the  horse  a  bit,  can't  you?  " 

"  Cart  of  yours !  You  don't  mean  to  say  you've 
bought  that  cart?  " 

39 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Isak  dumb;  Isak  swelling  with  things  unspoken. 
He  lifts  out  a  plough  and  a  harrow  he  has  brought; 
nails,  provisions,  a  grindstone,  a  sack  of  corn. 
"And  how's  the  child?  "  he  asks. 

"  Child's  all  right.  Have  you  bought  that  cart, 
that's  what  I  want  to  know?  For  here  have  I  been 
longing  and  longing  for  a  loom,"  says  she  jestingly, 
in  her  gladness  at  having  him  back  again. 

Isak  dumb  once  more,  for  a  long  space,  busied 
with  his  own  affairs,  pondering,  looking  round  for  a 
place  to  put  all  his  goods  and  implements;  it  was 
hard  to  find  room  for  them  all.  But  when  Inger 
gave  up  asking,  and  began  talking  to  the  horse  in- 
stead, he  came  out  of  his  lofty  silence  at  last. 

"  Ever  see  a  farm  without  a  horse  and  cart,  and 
plough  and  harrows,  and  all  the  rest  of  it?  And 
since  you  want  to  know,  why,  I've  bought  that  horse 
and  cart,  and  all  that's  in  it,"  says  he. 

And  Inger  could  only  shake  her  head  and  murmur: 
"  Well,  I  never  did  see  such  a  manl  " 

Isak  was  no  longer  littleness  and  humility;  he  had 
paid,  as  it  were,  like  a  gentleman,  for  Goldenhorns. 
"  Here  you  are,"  he  could  say.  "  I've  brought 
along  a  horse;  we  can  call  it  quits." 

He  stood  there,  upright  and  agile,  against  his 
wont;  shifted  the  plough  once  more,  picked  it  up  and 
carried  it  with  one  hand  and  stood  it  up  against  the 
wall.  Oh,  he  could  manage  an  estate !  He  took  up 
the  other  things:  the  harrow,  the  grindstone,  a  new 
fork  he  had  bought,  all  the  costly  agricultural  im- 
plements, treasures  of  the  new  home,  a  grand  array. 

40 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

All    requisite    appliances  —  nothing    was    lacking. 

"  H'm.  As  for  that  loom,  why,  we'll  manage 
that  too,  I  dare  say,  as  long  as  I've  my  health.  And 
there's  your  cotton  print;  they'd  none  but  blue,  so 
I  took  that." 

There  was  no  end  to  the  things  he  brought.  A 
bottomless  well,  rich  in  all  manner  of  things,  like  a 
city  store. 

Says  Inger:  "  I  wish  Oline  could  have  seen  all 
this  when  she  was  here." 

Just  like  a  woman !  Sheer  senseless  vanity  —  as 
if  that  mattered!  Isak  sniffed  contemptuously. 
Though  perhaps  he  himself  would  not  have  been 
displeased  if  Oline  had  been  there  to  see. 

The  child  was  crying. 

"  Go  in  and  look  after  the  boy,"  said  Isak.  "  I'll 
look  to  the  horse." 

He  takes  out  the  horse  and  leads  it  into  the  stable : 
ay,  here  is  Isak  putting  his  horse  into  the  stable! 
Feeds  it  and  strokes  it  and  treats  it  tenderly.  And 
how  much  was  owing  now,  on  that  horse  and  cart?  — 
Everything,  the  whole  sum,  a  mighty  debt;  but  it 
should  all  be  paid  that  summer,  never  fear.  He 
had  stacks  of  cordwood  to  pay  with,  and  some  build- 
ing bark  from  last  year's  cut,  not  to  speak  of  heavy 
timber.  There  was  time  enough.  But  later  on, 
when  the  pride  and  glory  had  cooled  off  a  little,  there 
were  bitter  hours  of  fear  and  anxiety;  all  depended 
on  the  summer  and  the  crops;  how  the  year  turned 
out. 

The  days  now  were  occupied  in  field  work  and 

41 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

more  field  work;  he  cleared  new  bits  of  ground,  get- 
ting out  roots  and  stones ;  ploughing,  manuring,  har- 
rowing, working  with  pick  and  spade,  breaking  lumps 
of  soil  and  crumbling  them  with  hand  and  heel;  a 
tiller  of  the  ground  always,  laying  out  fields  like 
velvet  carpets.  He  waited  a  couple  of  days  longer 
—  there  was  a  look  of  rain  about  —  and  then  he 
sowed  his  corn. 

For  generations  back,  into  forgotten  time,  his 
fathers  before  him  had  sowed  corn;  solemnly,  on  a 
still,  calm  evening,  best  with  a  gentle  fall  of  warm 
and  misty  rain,  soon  after  the  grey  goose  flight. 
Potatoes  were  a  new  thing,  nothing  mystic,  nothing 
religious;  women  and  children  could  plant  them  — 
earth-apples  that  came  from  foreign  parts,  like  cof- 
fee; fine  rich  food,  but  much  like  swedes  and  man- 
golds. Corn  was  nothing  less  than  bread;  corn  or 
no  corn  meant  life  or  death. 

Isak  walked  bareheaded,  in  Jesu  name,  a  sower. 
Like  a  tree-stump  with  hands  to  look  at,  but  in  his 
heart  like  a  child.  Every  cast  was  made  with  care, 
in  a  spirit  of  kindly  resignation.  Look!  the  tiny 
grains  that  are  to  take  life  and  grow,  shoot  up  into 
ears,  and  give  more  corn  again;  so  it  is  throughout 
all  the  earth  where  corn  is  sown.  Palestine,  Amer- 
ica, the  valleys  of  Norway  itself — a  great  wide 
world,  and  here  is  Isak,  a  tiny  speck  in  the  midst  of 
it  all,  a  sower.  Little  showers  of  corn  flung  out 
f anwise  from  his  hand ;  a  kindly  clouded  sky,  with  a 
promise  of  the  faintest  little  misty  rain. 


Chapter  IV 


IT  was  the  slack  time  between  the  seasons,  but 
the  woman  Oline  did  not  come. 
Isak  was  free  of  the  soil  now;  he  had  two 
scythes  and  two  rakes  ready  for  the  haymaking;  he 
made  long  bottom  boards  for  the  cart  for  getting  in 
the  hay,  and  procured  a  couple  of  runners  and  some 
suitable  wood  to  make  a  sledge  for  the  winter. 
Many  useful  things  he  did.  Even  to  shelves.  He 
set  up  a  pair  of  shelves  inside  the  house,  as  an  ex- 
cellent place  to  keep  various  things,  such  as  an 
almanac  —  he  had  bought  one  at  last  —  and  ladles 
and  vessels  not  in  use.  Inger  thought  a  deal  of 
those  two  shelves. 

Inger  was  easily  pleased;  she  thought  a  great  deal 
of  everything.  There  was  Goldenhorns,  for  in- 
stance, no  fear  of  her  running  away  now,  with  the 
calf  and  bull  to  play  with;  she  ran  about  in  the  woods 
all  day  long.  The  goats  too  were  thriving,  their 
heavy  udders  almost  dragging  on  the  ground.  Inger 
made  a  long  robe  of  blue  cotton  print,  and  a  little 
cap  of  the  same  stuff,  as  pretty  as  could  be  —  and 
that  was  for  the  christening.  The  boy  himself 
watched  her  at  work  many  a  time ;  a  blessed  wonder 
of  a  boy  he  was,  and  if  she  was  so  bent  on  calling  him 
Eleseus,  why,  Isak  supposed  she  must  have  her  way. 

43 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

When  the  robe  was  finished,  it  had  a  long  train  to  it, 
nigh  on  a  yard  and  a  half  of  cotton  print,  and  every 
inch  of  it  money  spent;  but  what  of  that  —  the  child 
was  their  first-born. 

"What  about  those  beads  of  yours?  "  said  Isak. 
"  If  as  they're  ever  to  be  used  at  all  .  .  ." 

Oh,  but  Inger  had  thought  of  them  already,  those 
beads  of  hers.  Trust  a  mother  for  that.  Inger 
said  nothing,  and  was  very  proud.  The  beads  were 
none  so  many;  they  would  not  make  a  necklace  for 
the  boy,  but  they  would  look  pretty  stitched  on  the 
front  of  his  cap,  and  there  they  should  be. 

But  Oline  did  not  come. 

If  it  had  not  been  for  the  cattle,  they  could  have 
gone  off  all  three  of  them,  and  come  back  a  few  days 
later  with  the  child  properly  christened.  And  if  it 
had  not  been  for  that  matter  of  getting  wedded, 
Inger  might  have  gone  by  herself. 

"  If  we  put  off  the  wedding  business  for  a  bit?  " 
said  Isak.  But  Inger  was  loth  to  put  it  off ;  it  would 
be  ten  or  twelve  years  at  least  before  Eleseus  was 
old  enough  to  stay  behind  and  look  to  the  milking 
while  they  went. 

No,  Isak  must  use  his  brains  to  find  a  way.  The 
whole  thing  had  come  about  somehow  without  their 
knowing;  maybe  the  wedding  business  was  just  as  im- 
portant as  the  christening  —  how  should  he  know? 
The  weather  looked  like  drought  —  a  thoroughly 
wicked  drought;  if  the  rain  did  not  come  before 
long,  their  crops  would  be  burnt  up.  But  all  was 
in  the  hand  of  God.  Isak  made  ready  to  go  down 

44 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

to  the  village  and  find  some  one  to  come  up.  All 
those  miles  again! 

And  all  that  fuss  just  to  be  wed  and  christened! 
Ay,  outlying  folks  had  many  troubles,  great  and 
small. 

At  last  Oline  did  come.  .  .  . 

And  now  they  were  wedded  and  christened,  every- 
thing decently  in  order;  they  had  remembered  to 
have  the  wedding  first,  so  the  child  could  be  christ- 
ened as  of  a  wedded  pair.  But  the  drought  kept 
on,  and  the  tiny  cornfields  were  parched,  those  velvet 
carpets  parched  —  and  why?  'Twas  all  in  the  hand 
of  God.  Isak  mowed  his  bits  of  meadow;  there 
was  little  grass  on  them  for  all  he  had  manured 
them  well  that  spring.  He  mowed  and  mowed  on 
the  hillsides,  farther  and  farther  out;  mowing  and 
turning  and  carting  home  loads  of  hay,  as  if  he  would 
never  tire  —  for  he  had  a  horse  already,  and  a  well- 
stocked  farm.  But  by  mid- July  he  had  to  cut  the 
corn  for  green  fodder,  there  was  no  help  for  it. 
And  now  all  depended  on  the  potato  crop. 

What  was  that  about  potatoes  ?  Were  they  just  a 
thing  from  foreign  parts,  like  coffee;  a  luxury,  an 
extra?  Oh,  the  potato  is  a  lordly  fruit;  drought  or 
downpour,  it  grows  and  grows  all  the  same.  It 
laughs  at  the  weather,  and  will  stand  anything;  only 
deal  kindly  with  it,  and  it  yields  fifteen-fold  again. 
Not  the  blood  of  a  grape,  but  the  flesh  of  a  chest- 
nut, to  be  boiled  or  roasted,  used  in  every  way.  A 
man  may  lack  corn  to  make  bread,  but  give  him 
potatoes  and  he  will  not  starve.  Roast  them  in  the 

45 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

embers,  and  there  is  supper;  boil  them  in  water, 
and  there's  a  breakfast  ready.  As  for  meat,  it's 
little  is  needed  beside.  Potatoes  can  be  served  with 
what  you  please ;  a  dish  of  milk,  a  herring,  is  enough. 
The  rich  eat  them  with  butter;  poor  folk  manage 
with  a  tiny  pinch  of  salt.  Isak  could  make  a  feast 
of  them  on  Sundays,  with  a  mess  of  cream  from 
Goldenhorns'  milk.  Poor  despised  potato  —  a 
blessed  thing! 

But  now  —  things  look  black  even  for  the  potato 
crop. 

Isak  looked  at  the  sky  unnumbered  times  in  the 
day.  And  the  sky  was  blue.  Many  an  evening  it 
looked  as  if  a  shower  were  coming.  Isak  would  go 
in  and  say,  "  Like  as  not  we'll  be  getting  that  rain 
after  all."  And  a  couple  of  hours  later  all  would 
be  as  hopeless  as  before. 

The  drought  had  lasted  seven  weeks  now,  and 
the  heat  was  serious;  the  potatoes  stood  all  the 
time  in  flower;  flowering  marvellously,  unnaturally. 
The  cornfields  looked  from  a  distance  as  if  under 
snow.  Where  was  it  all  to  end?  The  almanac 
said  nothing  —  almanacs  nowadays  were  not  what 
they  used  to  be ;  an  almanac  now  was  no  good  at  all. 
Now  it  looked  like  rain  again,  and  Isak  went  in  to 
Inger:  "  We'll  have  rain  this  night,  God  willing." 

"  Is  it  looking  that  way?  " 

"  Ay.  And  the  horse  is  shivering  a  bit,  like  they 
will." 

Inger  glanced  towards  the  door  and  said,  "  Ay, 
you  see,  'twill  come  right  enough." 

46 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

A  few  drops  fell.  Hours  passed,  they  had  their 
supper,  and  when  Isak  went  out  in  the  night  to  look, 
the  sky  was  blue. 

"Well,  well,"  said  Inger;  "anyway,  'twill  give 
the  last  bit  of  lichen  another  day  to  dry,"  said  she 
to  comfort  him  all  she  could. 

Isak  had  been  getting  lichen,  as  much  as  he  could, 
and  had  a  fine  lot,  all  of  the  best.  It  was  good 
fodder,  and  he  treated  it  as  he  would  hay,  covering 
it  over  with  bark  in  the  woods.  There  was  only 
a  little  still  left  out,  and  now,  when  Inger  spoke  of 
it,  he  answered  despairingly,  as  if  it  were  all  one, 
"  I'll  not  take  it  in  if  it  is  dry." 

"  Isak,  you  don't  mean  it!  "  said  Inger. 

And  next  day,  sure  enough,  he  did  not  take  it  in. 
He  left  it  out  and  never  touched  it,  just  as  he  had 
said.  Let  it  stay  where  it  was,  there'd  be  no  rain 
anyway;  let  it  stay  where  it  was  in  God's  name! 
He  could  take  it  in  some  time  before  Christmas,  if 
so  be  as  the  sun  hadn't  burnt  it  all  up  to  nothing. 

Isak  was  deeply  and  thoroughly  offended.  It  was 
no  longer  a  pleasure  and  a  delight  to  sit  outside  on 
the  door-slab  and  look  out  over  his  lands  and  be  the 
owner  of  it  all.  There  was  the  potato  field  flower- 
ing madly,  and  drying  up ;  let  the  lichen  stay  where 
it  was  —  what  did  he  care?  That  Isak!  Who 
could  say;  perhaps  he  had  a  bit  of  a  sly  little  thought 
in  his  mind  for  all  his  stolid  simpleness;  maybe  he 
knew  what  he  was  doing  after  all,  trying  to  tempt 
the  blue  sky  now,  at  the  change  of  the  moon. 

That  evening  it  looked  like  rain  once  more.  "  You 

47 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

ought    to    have    got   that   lichen   in,"    said    Inger. 

"  What  for?  "  said  Isak,  looking  all  surprised. 

"  Ay,  you  with  your  nonsense  —  but  it  might  be 
rain  after  all." 

'  There'll  be  no  rain  this  year,  you  can  see  for 
yourself." 

But  for  all  that,  it  grew  curiously  dark  in  the 
night.  They  could  see  through  the  glass  window 
that  it  was  darker  —  ay,  and  as  if  something  beat 
against  the  panes,  something  wet,  whatever  it  might 
be.  Inger  woke  up.  "  'Tis  rain!  look  at  the 
windowpanes." 

But  Isak  only  sniffed.  "  Rain?  —  not  a  bit  of  it. 
Don't  know  what  you're  talking  about." 

"  Ah,  it's  no  good  pretending,"  said  Inger. 

Isak  was  pretending  —  ay,  that  was  it.  Rain  it 
was,  sure  enough,  and  a  good  heavy  shower  —  but 
as  soon  as  it  had  rained  enough  to  spoil  Isak's  lichen, 
it  stopped.  The  sky  was  blue.  "  What  did  I  say," 
said  Isak,  stiff-necked  and  hard. 

The  shower  made  no  difference  to  the  potato  crop, 
and  days  came  and  went;  the  sky  was  blue.  Isak 
set  to  work  on  his  timber  sledge,  worked  hard  at  it, 
and  bowed  his  heart,  and  planed  away  humbly  at 
runners  and  shafts.  Eyah,  Herregud!  Ay,  the 
days  came  and  went,  and  the  child  grew.  Inger 
churned  and  made  cheeses;  there  was  no  serious 
danger;  folk  that  had  their  wits  about  them  and 
could  work  need  not  die  for  the  sake  of  one  bad  year. 
Moreover,  after  nine  weeks,  there  came  a  regular 
blessing  of  rain,  rain  all  one  day  and  night,  and  six- 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

teen  hours  of  it  pouring  as  hard  as  it  could.  If  it 
had  come  but  two  weeks  back,  Isak  would  have  said, 
"  It's  too  late  now!  "  As  it  was,  he  said  to  Inger, 
"  You  see,  that'll  save  some  of  the  potatoes." 

"  Ay,"  said  Inger  hopefully.  "  It'll  save  the  lot, 
you'll  see." 

And  now  things  were  looking  better.  Rain  every 
day;  good,  thorough  showers.  Everything  looking 
green  again,  as  by  a  miracle.  The  potatoes  were 
flowering  still,  worse  than  before,  and  with  big 
berries  growing  out  at  the  tops,  which  was  not  as  it 
should  be ;  but  none  could  say  what  might  be  at  the 
roots  —  Isak  had  not  ventured  to  look.  Then  one 
day  Inger  went  out  and  found  over  a  score  of  little 
potatoes  under  one  plant.  "  And  they've  five  weeks 
more  to  grow  in,"  said  Inger.  Oh,  that  Inger,  al- 
ways trying  to  comfort  and  speak  hopefully  through 
her  hare-lip.  It  was  not  pretty  to  hear  when  she 
spoke,  for  a  sort  of  hissing,  like  steam  from  a  leaky 
valve,  but  a  comfort  all  the  same  out  in  the  wilds. 
And  a  happy  and  cheerful  soul  she  was  at  all  times. 

"  I  wish  you  could  manage  to  make  another  bed," 
she  said  to  Isak  one  day. 

"Ho!"  said  he. 

"  Why,  there's  no  hurry,  but  still  .  .  ." 

They  started  getting  in  the  potatoes,  and  finished 
by  Michaelmas,  as  the  custom  is.  It  was  a  middling 
year  —  a  good  year;  once  again  it  was  seen  that 
potatoes  didn't  care  so  much  about  the  weather,  but 
grew  up  all  the  same,  and  could  stand  a  deal.  A 
middling  year  —  a  good  year  .  .  .  well,  not  per- 

49 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

haps,  if  they  worked  it  out  exactly,  but  that  they 
couldn't  do  this  year.  A  Lapp  had  passed  that  way 
one  day  and  said  how  fine  their  potatoes  were  up 
there;  it  was  much  worse,  he  said,  down  in  the  vil- 
lage. 

And  now  Isak  had  a  few  weeks  more  to  work  the 
ground  before  the  frost  set  in.  The  cattle  were  out, 
grazing  where  they  pleased;  it  was  good  to  work 
with  them  about,  and  hear  the  bells,  though  it  did 
take  some  of  his  time  now  and  again.  There  was 
the  bull,  mischievous  beast,  would  take  to  butting  at 
the  lichen  stacks;  and  as  for  the  goats,  they  were 
high  and  low  and  everywhere,  even  to  the  roof  of 
the  hut. 

Troubles  great  and  small. 

One  day  Isak  heard  a  sudden  shout;  Inger  stood 
on  the  door-slab  with  the  child  in  her  arms,  pointing 
over  to  the  bull  and  the  pretty  little  cow  Silverhorns 
—  they  were  making  love.  Isak  threw  down  his 
pick  and  raced  over  to  the  pair,  but  it  was  too  late, 
by  the  look  of  it.  The  mischief  was  done.  "  Oh, 
the  little  rascal,  she's  all  too  young  —  half  a  year 
too  soon,  a  child!  "  Isak  got  her  into  the  hut,  but 
it  was  too  late. 

'  Well,  well,"  says  Inger,  "  'tis  none  so  bad  after 
all,  in  a  way;  if  she'd  waited,  we'd  have  had  both 
of  them  bearing  at  the  same  time."  Oh,  that  Inger; 
not  so  bright  as  some,  maybe,  yet,  for  all  that,  she 
may  well  have  known  what  she  was  about  when  she 
let  the  pair  loose  together  that  morning. 

Winter  came,  Inger  carding  and  spinning,  Isak 

50 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

driving  down  with  loads  of  wood;  fine  dry  wood  and 
good  going;  all  his  debts  paid  off  and  settled;  horse 
and  cart,  plough  and  harrow  his  very  own.  He 
drove  down  with  Inger's  goats'  milk  cheeses,  and 
brought  back  woollen  thread,  a  loom,  shuttles  and 
beam  and  all;  brought  back  flour  and  provisions, 
more  planks,  and  boards  and  nails;  one  day  he 
brought  home  a  lamp. 

"  As  true  as  I'm  here  I  won't  believe  it,"  says 
Inger.  But  she  had  long  had  in  her  mind  about  a 
lamp  for  all  that.  They  lit  it  the  same  evening, 
and  were  in  paradise;  little  Elese-us  he  thought,  no 
doubt,  it  was  the  sun.  "  Look  how  he  stares  all 
wondering  like,"  said  Isak.  And  now  Inger  could 
spin  of  an  evening  by  lamplight. 

He  brought  up  linen  for  shirts,  and  new  hide  shoes 
for  Inger.  She  had  asked  for  some  dye-stuffs,  too, 
for  the  wool,  and  he  brought  them.  Then  one  day 
he  came  back  with  a  clock.  With  what?  —  A  clock. 
This  was  too  much  for  Inger;  she  was  overwhelmed 
and  could  not  say  a  word.  Isak  hung  it  up  on  the 
wall,  and  set  it  at  a  guess,  wound  it  up,  and  let  it 
strike.  The  child  turned  its  eyes  at  the  sound  and 
then  looked  at  its  mother.  "  Ay,  you  may  wonder," 
said  Inger,  and  took  the  child  to  her,  not  a  little 
touched  herself.  Of  all  good  things,  here  in  a  lonely 
place,  there  was  nothing  could  be  better  than  a  clock 
to  go  all  the  dark  winter  through,  and  strike  so  pret- 
tily at  the  hours. 

When  the  last  load  was  carted  down,  Isak  turned 
woodman  once  more,  felling  and  stacking,  building 

5' 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

his  streets,  his  town  of  wood-piles  for  next  winter. 
He  was  getting  farther  and  farther  from  the  home- 
stead now,  there  was  a  great  broad  stretch  of  hillside 
all  ready  for  tillage.  He  would  not  cut  close  any 
more,  but  simply  throw  the  biggest  trees  with  dry 
tops. 

He  knew  well  enough,  of  course,  what  Inger  had 
been  thinking  of  when  she  asked  for  another  bed; 
best  to  hurry  up  and  get  it  ready.  One  dark  even- 
ing he  came  home  from  the  woods,  and  sure  enough, 
Inger  had  got  it  over  —  another  boy  —  and  was  ly- 
ing down.  That  Inger !  Only  that  very  morning 
she  had  tried  to  get  him  to  go  down  to  the  village 
again:  "  'Tis  time  the  horse  had  something  to  do," 
says  she.  "  Eating  his  head  off  all  day." 

"  I've  no  time  for  such-like  nonsense,"  said  Isak 
shortly,  and  went  out.  Now  he  understood;  she 
had  wanted  to  get  him  out  of  the  way.  And  why? 
Surely  'twas  as  well  to  have  him  about  the  house. 

"  Why  can't  you  ever  tell  a  man  what's  coming?  " 
said  he. 

'  You  make  a  bed  for  yourself  and  sleep  in  the 
little  room,"  said  Inger. 

As  for  that,  it  was  not  only  a  bedstead  to  make ; 
there  must  be  bedclothes  to  spread.  They  had  but 
one  skin  rug,  and  there  would  be  no  getting  another 
till  next  autumn,  when  there  were  wethers  to  kill  — 
and  even  then  two  skins  would  not  make  a  blanket. 
Isak  had  a  hard  time,  with  cold  at  nights,  for  a 
while ;  he  tried  burying  himself  in  the  hay  under  the 
rock-shelter,  tried  to  bed  down  for  himself  with  the 

52 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

cows.  Isak  was  homeless.  Well  for  him  that  it 
was  May;  soon  June  would  be  in;  July.  .  .  . 

A  wonderful  deal  they  had  managed,  out  there  in 
the  wilderness ;  house  for  themselves  and  housing  for 
the  cattle,  and  ground  cleared  and  cultivated,  all  in 
three  years.  Isak  was  building  again  —  what  was 
he  building  now?  A  new  shed,  a  lean-to,  jutting  out 
from  the  house.  The  whole  place  rang  with  the 
noise  as  he  hammered  in  his  eight-inch  nails.  Inger 
came  out  now  and  again  and  said  it  was  trying  for 
the  little  ones. 

"  Ay,  the  little  ones  —  go  in  and  talk  to  them  then, 
sing  a  bit.  Eleseus,  he  can  have  a  bucket  lid  to  ham- 
mer on  himself.  And  it's  only  while  I'm  doing  these 
big  nails  just  here,  at  the  cross-beams,  that's  got  to 
bear  the  whole.  Only  planks  after  that,  two-and-a- 
half-inch  nails,  as  gentle  as  building  dolls'  houses." 

Small  wonder  if  Isak  hammered  and  thumped. 
There  stood  a  barrel  of  herrings,  and  the  flour,  and 
all  kinds  of  food-stuffs  in  the  stable;  better  than  ly- 
ing out  in  the  open,  maybe,  but  the  pork  tasted  of  it 
ajready;  a  shed  they  must  have,  and  that  was  clear. 
As  for  the  little  ones,  they'd  get  used  to  the  noise  in 
no  time.  Eleseus  was  inclined  to  be  ailing  somehow, 
but  the  other  took  nourishment  sturdily,  like  a  fat 
cherub,  and  when  he  wasn't  crying,  he  slept.  A  won- 
der of  a  child!  Isak  made  no  objection  to  his  being 
called  Sivert,  though  he  himself  would  rather  have 
preferred  Jacob.  Inger  could  hit  on  the  right  thing 
at  times.  Eleseus  was  named  after  the  priest  of  her 
parish,  and  that  was  a  fine  name  to  be  sure;  but 

S3 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Sivert  was  called  after  his  mother's  uncle,  the  dis- 
trict treasurer,  who  was  a  well-to-do  man,  with 
neither  wife  nor  child  to  come  after  him.  They 
couldn't  do  better  than  name  the  boy  after  him. 

Then  came  spring,  and  the  new  season's  work;  all 
was  down  in  the  earth  before  Whitsun.  When  there 
had  been  only  Eleseus  to  look  after,  Inger  could 
never  find  time  to  help  her  husband,  being  tied  to 
her  first-born ;  now,  with  two  children  in  the  house,  it 
was  different;  she  helped  in  the  fields  and  managed 
a  deal  of  odd  work  here  and  there;  planting  pota- 
toes, sowing  carrots  and  turnips.  A  wife  like  that  is 
none  so  easy  to  find.  And  she  had  her  loom  besides; 
at  all  odd  minutes  she  would  slip  into  the  little  room 
and  weave  a  couple  of  spools,  making  half-wool  stuff 
for  underclothes  for  the  winter.  Then  when  she  had 
dyed  her  wools,  it  was  red  and  blue  dress  material 
for  herself  and  the  little  ones ;  at  last  she  put  in  sev- 
eral colours,  and  made  a  bedspread  for  Isak  all  by 
herself.  No  fancy  work  from  Inger's  loom ;  useful 
and  necessary  things,  and  sound  all  through. 

Oh,  they  were  doing  famously,  these  settlers  in  the 
wilds ;  they  had  got  on  so  far,  and  if  this  year's  crops 
turned  out  well  they  would  be  enviable  folk,  no  less. 
What  was  lacking  on  the  place  at  all?  A  hayloft, 
perhaps ;  a  big  barn  with  a  threshing-floor  inside  — 
but  that  might  come  in  time.  Ay,  it  would  come, 
never  fear,  only  give  then  time.  And  now  pretty 
Silverhorns  had  calved,  the  sheep  had  lambs,  the 
goats  had  kids,  the  young  stock  fairly  swarmed  about 

54 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

the  place.  And  what  of  the  little  household  itself? 
Eleseus  could  walk  already,  walk  by  himself  wher- 
ever he  pleased,  and  little  Sivert  was  christened. 
Inger?  By  all  signs  and  tokens,  making  ready  for 
another  turn;  she  was  not  what  you'd  call  niggardly 
at  bearing.  Another  child  - —  oh,  a  mere  nothing  to 
Inger !  Though,  to  be  sure,  she  was  proud  enough 
of  them  when  they  came.  Fine  little  creatures,  as 
any  one  could  see.  'Twas  not  all,  by  a  long  way, 
that  the  Lord  had  blessed  with  such  fine  big  children. 
Inger  was  young,  and  making  the  most  of  it.  She 
was  no  beauty,  and  had  suffered  all  her  girlhood  by 
reason  of  the  same,  being  set  aside  and  looked  down 
on.  The  young  men  never  noticed  her,  though  she 
could  dance  and  work  as  well.  They  found  nothing 
sweet  in  her,  and  turned  elsewhere.  But  now  her 
time  had  come ;  she  was  in  full  flower  and  constantly 
with  child.  Isak  himself,  her  lord  and  master,  was 
earnest  and  stolid  as  ever,  but  he  had  got  on  well, 
and  was  content.  How  he  had  managed  to  live  till 
Inger  came  was  a  mystery;  feeding,  no  doubt,  on 
potatoes  and  goats'  milk,  or  maybe  venturesome 
dishes  without  a  name;  now,  he  had  all  that  a  man 
could  think  of  in  his  place  in  the  world. 

There  came  another  drought,  a  new  bad  year. 
Os-Anders  the  Lapp,  coming  by  with  his  dog, 
brought  news  that  folk  in  the  village  had  cut  their 
corn  already,  for  fodder. 

"  'Tis  a  poor  look  out,"  said  Inger,  "  when  it 
comes  to  that." 

"  Ay.     But  they've  the  herring.     A  fine  haul,  'tis 

55 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

said.     Yiour  Uncle  Sivert,  he's  going  to  build  a  coun- 
try house." 

'  Why,  he  was  none  so  badly  off  before." 
'  That's  true.     And  like  to  be  the  same  with  you, 
for  all  it  seems." 

"  Why,  as  to  that,  thank  God,  we've  enough  for 
our  little  needs.  What  do  they  say  at  home  about 
me  up  here?  " 

Os- Anders  wags  his  head  helplessly;  there's  no  end 
to  the  great  things  they  say;  more  than  he  can  tell. 
A  pleasant-spoken  fellow,  like  all  the  Lapps. 

"  If  as  you'd  care  for  a  dish  of  milk  now,  you've 
only  to  say  so,"  says  Inger. 

'Tis  more   than's   worth   your  while.     But   if 
you've  a  sup  for  the  dog  here.  .  .  ." 

Milk  for  Os-Anders,  and  food  for  the  dog.  Os- 
Anders  lifts  his  head  suddenly,  at  a  kind  of  music 
inside  the  house. 

"What's  that?" 

'Tis  only  our  clock,"  says  Inger.     "  It  strikes 
the  hours  that  way."      Inger  bursting  with  pride. 

The  Lapp  wags  his  head  again :  "  House  and 
cattle  and  all  manner  of  things.  There's  nothing  a 
man  could  think  of  but  you've  that  thing." 

"  Ay,  we've  much  to  be  thankful  for,  'tis  true." 

"  I  forgot  to  say,  there's  Oline  was  asking  after 
you." 

"  Oline?     How  is  it  with  her?  " 

"  She's  none  so  poorly.  Where  will  your  husband 
be  now?  " 

"  He'll  be  at  work  in  the  fields  somewhere." 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  They  say  he's  not  bought  yet,"  says  the  Lapp 
carelessly. 

"  Bought?     Who  says  so?  " 

"  Why,  'tis  what  they  say." 

"But  who's  he  to  buy  from?  'Tis  common 
land." 

"  Ay,  'tis  so." 

"  And  sweat  of  his  brow  to  every  spade  of  it." 

"  Why,  they  say  'tis  the  State  owns  all  the  land." 

Inger  could  make  nothing  of  this.  "  Ay,  maybe 
so.  Was  it  Oline  said  so?  " 

"  I  don't  well  remember,"  says  the  Lapp,  and  his 
shifty  eyes  looked  all  ways  around. 

Inger  wondered  why  he  did  not  beg  for  anything ; 
Os-Anders  always  begged,  as  do  all  the  Lapps.  Os- 
Anders  sits  scraping  at  the  bowl  of  his  clay  pipe,  and 
and  lights  up.  What  a  pipe !  He  puffs  and  draws 
at  it  till  his  wrinkled  old  face  looks  like  a  wizard's 
runes. 

"  No  need  to  ask  if  the  little  ones  there  are  yours," 
says  he,  flattering  again.  "  They're  as  like  you  as 
could  be.  The  living  image  of  yourself  when  you 
were  small." 

Now  Inger  was  a  monster  and  a  deformity  to  look 
at;  'twas  all  wrong,  of  course,  but  she  swelled  with 
pride  for  all  that.  Even  a  Lapp  can  gladden  a 
mother's  heart. 

"  If  it  wasn't  that  your  sack  there's  so  full,  I'd 
find  you  something  to  put  in  it,"  says  Inger. 

"  Nay,  'tis  more  than's  worth  your  while." 

Inger   goes  inside  with  the   child  on  her  arm; 

57 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Eleseus  stays  outside  with  the  Lapp.  The  two  make 
friends  at  once;  the  child  sees  something  curious  in 
the  sack,  something  soft  and  fluffy,  and  wants  to  pat 
it.  The  dog  stands  alert,  barking  and  whining. 
Inger  comes  out  with  a  parcel  of  food;  she  gives  a 
cry,  and  drops  down  on  the  door-slab. 

"  What's  that  you've  got  there?     What  is  it?  " 

"  'Tis  nothing.     Only  a  hare." 

"  I  saw  it." 

"  'Twas  the  boy  wanted  to  look.  Dog  ran  it 
down  this  morning  and  killed  it,  and  I  brought  it 
along.  .  .  ." 

"  Here's  your  food,"  said  Inger. 


Chapter  V 

I  f  "V  NE  bad  year  never  comes  alone.  \  Isak  had 
I  I  grown  patient,  and  took  what  fell  to  his 
\^_S  lot.  The  corn  was  parched,  and  the  hay 
was  poor,  but  the  potatoes  looked  like  pulling 
through  once  more  —  bad  enough,  all  things  to- 
gether, but  not  the  worst.  Isak  had  still  a  season's 
yield  of  cordwood  and  timber  to  sell  in  the  village, 
and  the  herring  fishery  had  been  rich  all  round  the 
coast,  so  there  was  plenty  of  money  to  buy  wood. 
Indeed,  it  almost  looked  like  a  providence  that  the 
corn  harvest  had  failed  —  for  how  could  he  have 
threshed  it  without  a  barn  and  threshing-floor? 

V  Call  it  providence ;  there's  no  harm  in  that  some- 

|  times. 

There  were  other  things  not  so  easily  put  out  of 
mind.  What  was  it  a  certain  Lapp  had  said  to  In- 
ger  that  summer  —  something  about  not  having 
bought?  Buy,  what  should  he  buy  for?  The 
ground  was  there,  the  forest  was  there;  he  had 
cleared  and  tilled,  built  up  a  homestead  in  the  midst 
of  a  natural  wilderness,  winning  bread  for  himself 
and  his,  asking  nothing  of  any  man,  but  working, 
and  working  alone.  He  had  often  thought  himself 
of  asking  the  Lensmand  l  about  the  matter  when 

1  Sheriff's  officer,  in  charge   of   a  small   district 

59 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

he  went  down  to  the  village,  but  had  always  put  it 
off;  the  Lensmand  was  not  a  pleasant  man  to  deal 
with,  so  people  said,  and  Isak  was  not  one  to  talk 
much.  What  could  he  say  if  he  went  —  what  had 
he  come  for? 

One  day  that  winter  the  Lensmand  himself  came 
driving  up  to  the  place.  There  was  a  man  with  him, 
and  a  lot  of  papers  in  a  bag.  Geissler  himself,  the 
Lensmand,  no  less.  He  looked  at  the  broad  open 
hillside,  cleared  of  timber,  smooth  and  unbroken  un- 
der the  snow;  he  thought  perhaps  that  it  was  all 
tilled  land  already,  for  he  said : 

"  Why,  this  is  a  whole  big  farm  you've  got.  You 
don't  expect  to  get  all  this  for  nothing?  " 

There  it  was !  Isak  was  terror-stricken  and  said 
not  a  word. 

"  You  ought  to  have  come  to  me  at  first,  and 
bought  the  land,"  said  Geissler. 

"  Ay." 

The  Lensmand  talked  of  valuations,  of  bounda- 
ries, taxes,  taxes  to  the  State,  and,  when  he  had  ex- 
plained the  matter  a  little,  Isak  began  to  see  that 
there  was  something  reasonable  in  it  after  all.  The 
Lensmand  turned  to  his  companion  teasingly. 
"  Now  then,  you  call  yourself  a  surveyor,  what's  the 
extent  of  cultivated  ground  here?"  He  did  not 
wait  for  the  other  to  reply,  but  noted  down  himself, 
at  a  guess.  Then  he  asked  Isak  about  the  crops, 
how  much  hay,  how  many  bushels  of  potatoes.  And 
then  about  boundaries.  They  could  not  go  round 
the  place  marking  out  waist-deep  in  snow;  and  in 

60 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

summer  no  one  could  get  up  there  at  all.  What  did 
Isak  think  himself  about  the  extent  of  woodland  and 
pasturage?  —  Isak  had  no  idea  at  all;  he  had  always 
thought  of  the  place  as  being  his  own  as  far  as  he 
could  see.  The  Lensmand  said  that  the  State  re- 
quired definite  boundaries.  "  And  the  greater  the 
extent,  the  more  you  will  have  to  pay." 

"  Ay." 

"  And  they  won't  give  you  all  you  think  you  can 
swallow;  they'll  let  you  have  what's  reasonable  for 
your  needs." 

"  Ay." 

Inger  brought  in  some  milk  for  the  visitors;  they 
drank  it,  and  she  brought  in  some  more.  The  Lens- 
mand a  surly  fellow?  He  stroked  Eleseus'  hair,  and 
looked  at  something  the  child  was  playing  with. 
"  Playing  with  stones,  what?  Let  me  see.  H'm, 
heavy.  Looks  like  some  kind  of  ore." 

"  There's  plenty  such  up  in  the  hills,"  said  Isak. 

The  Lensmand  came  back  to  business.  "  South 
and  west  from  here's  what  you  want  most,  I  sup- 
pose? Shall  we  say  a  couple  of  furlongs  to  the 
southward?  " 

"  Two  furlongs !  "  exclaimed  his  assistant. 

"  You  couldn't  till  two  hundred  yards,"  said  his 
chief  shortly. 

"  What  will  that  cost?  "  asked  Isak. 

"  Can't  say.  It  all  depends.  But  I'll  put  it  as 
low  as  I  can  on  my  report;  it's  miles  away  from  any- 
where, and  difficult  to  get  at." 

"  But  two  furlongs !  "  said  the  assistant  again. 
61 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

The  Lensmand  entered  duly,  two  furlongs  to  the 
southward,  and  asked:  "What  about  the  hills? 
How  much  do  you  want  that  way?  " 

"  I'll  need  all  up  as  far  as  the  water.  There's  a 
big  water  up  there,"  said  Isak. 

The  Lensmand  noted  that.  "  And  how  far 
north?" 

"  Why,  it's  no  great  matter  that  way.  'Tis  but 
moorland  most,  and  little  timber." 

The  Lensmand  fixed  the  northward  boundary  at 
one  furlong.  "East?" 

"  That's  no  great  matter  either.  'Tis  bare  f  jeld 
all  from  here  into  Sweden." 

The  Lensmand  noted  down  again.  He  made  a 
rapid  calculation,  and  said:  "  It'll  make  a  good- 
sized  place,  even  at  that.  Anywhere  near  the  vil- 
lage, of  course,  it'd  be  worth  a  lot  of  money;  nobody 
could  have  bought  it.  I'll  send  in  a  report,  and  say 
a  hundred  Daler  would  be  fair.  What  do  you 
think?  "  he  asked  his  assistant. 

"  It's  giving  it  away,"  said  the  other. 

"  A  hundred  Daler?  "  said  Inger.  "  Isak,  you've 
no  call  to  take  so  big  a  place." 

«  No  —  o,"  said  Isak. 

The  assistant  put  in  hurriedly:  'That's  just 
what  I  say.  It's  miles  too  big  for  you  as  it  is. 
What  will  you  do  with  it?  " 

"  Cultivate  it,"  said  the  Lensmand. 

He  had  been  sitting  there  writing  and  working  in 
his  head,  with  the  children  crying  every  now  and 
then ;  he  did  not  want  to  have  the  whole  thing  to  do 

62 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

again.  As  it  was,  he  would  not  be  home  till  late  that 
night,  perhaps  not  before  morning.  He  thrust  the 
papers  into  the  bag;  the  matter  was  settled. 

"  Put  the  horse  in,"  he  said  to  his  companion. 
And  turning  to  Isak:  "  As  a  matter  of  fact,  they 
ought  to  give  you  the  place  for  nothing,  and  pay  you 
into  the  bargain,  the  way  you've  worked.  I'll  say 
as  much  when  I  send  in  the  report.  Then  we'll  see 
how  much  the  State  will  ask  for  the  title-deeds." 

Isak  —  it  was  hard  to  say  how  he  felt  about  it. 
Half  as  if  he  were  not  ill-pleased  after  all  to  find  his 
land  valued  at  a  big  price,  after  the  work  he  had 
done.  As  for  the  hundred  Daler,  he  could  manage 
to  pay  that  off,  no  doubt,  in  course  of  time.  He 
made  no  further  business  about  it;  he  could  go  on 
working  as  he  had  done  hitherto,  clearing  and  culti- 
vating, fetching  loads  of  timber  from  the  untended 
woodlands.  Isak  was  not  a  man  to  look  about  \ 
\  anxiously  for  what  might  come;  he  worked. 

Inger  thanked  the  Lensmand,  and  hoped  he  would 
put  in  a  word  for  them  with  the  State. 

1  Yes,  yes.  But  I've  no  say  in  the  matter  myself. 
All  I  have  to  do  is  to  say  what  I  have  seen,  and  what 
I  think.  How  old  is  the  youngest  there?  " 

"  Six  months  as  near  as  can  be." 

"Boy  or  girl?" 

"  Boy." 

The  Lensmand  was  no  tyrant,  but  shallow,  and 
not  overconscientious.  He  ignored  his  assistant, 
Brede  Olsen,  who  by  virtue  of  his  office  should  be 
an  expert  in  such  affairs ;  the  matter  was  settled  ou/ 

63 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

of  hand,  by  guesswork.  Yet  for  Isak  and  his  wife 
it  was  a  serious  matter  enough  —  ay,  and  for  who 
should  come  after  them,  maybe  for  generations. 
But  he  set  it  all  down,  as  it  pleased  him,  making  a 
document  of  it  on  the  spot.  Withal  a  kindly  man; 
he  took  a  bright  coin  from  his  pocket  and  gave  it  to 
little  Sivert ;  then  he  nodded  to  the  others  and  went 
out  to  the  sledge. 

Suddenly  he  asked:  "  What  do  you  call  the 
place?" 

"Call  it?" 

"  Yes.  What's  its  name?  We  must  have  a  name 
for  it." 

No  one  had  ever  thought  of  that  before.  Inger 
and  Isak  looked  at  each  other. 

"  Sellanraa  ?  "  said  the  Lensmand.  He  must  have 
invented  it  out  of  his  own  head;  maybe  it  was  not  a 
name  at  all.  But  he  only  nodded,  and  said  again, 
"  Sellanraa !  "  and  drove  off. 

Settled  again,  at  a  guess,  anything  would  do. 
The  name,  the  price,  the  boundaries.  .  .  . 

Some  weeks  later,  when  Isak  was  down  in  the 
village,  he  heard  rumours  of  some  business  about 
Lensmand  Geissler;  there  had  been  an  inquiry  about 
some  moneys  he  could  not  account  for,  and  the  mat- 
ter had  been  reported  to  his  superior.  Well,  such 
things  did  happen;  some  folk  were  content  to  stumble 
through  life  anyhow,  till  they  ran  up  against  those 
that  walked. 

Then  one  day  Isak  went  down  with  a  load  of 
wood,  and  coming  back,  who  should  drive  with  him 

64 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

on  his  sledge  but  Lensmand  Geissler.  He  stepped 
out  from  the  trees,  on  to  the  road,  waved  his  hand, 
and  simply  said:  "  Take  me  along,  will  you?  " 

They  drove  for  a  while,  neither  speaking.  Once 
the  passenger  took  a  flask  from  his  pocket  and  drank; 
offered  it  to  Isak,  who  declined.  "  I'm  afraid  this 
journey  will  upset  my  stomach,"  said  the  Lensmand. 

He  began  at  once  to  talk  about  Isak's  deal  in  land. 
"  I  sent  off  the  report  at  once,  with  a  strong  recom- 
mendation on  my  own  account.  Sellanraa's  a  nice 
name.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  they  ought  to  let  you 
have  the  place  for  nothing,  wouldn't  do  to  say  so,  of 
course.  If  I  had,  they'd  only  have  taken  offence  and 
put  their  own  price  on  it.  I  suggested  fifty  Daler" 

"Ho.     Fifty,  you  said?     Not  a  hundred?  " 

The  Lensmand  puckered  his  brow  and  thought  a 

moment.     "  As  far  as  I  recollect  it  was  fifty.     Yes. 

» 

"  And  where  will  you  be  going,  now?  "  asked  Isak. 
"  Over  to  Vesterbotten,  to  my  wife's  people." 
"  'Tis  none  so  easy  that  way  at  this  time  of  year." 
"  I'll  manage.     Couldn't  you  go  with  me  a  bit?  " 
"  Ay;  you  shan't  go  alone." 

They  came  to  the  farm,  and  the  Lensmand  stayed 
the  night,  sleeping  in  the  little  room.  In  the  morn- 
ing, he  brought  out  his  flask  again,  and  remarked: 
"  I'm  sure  this  journey's  going  to  upset  my  stomach." 
For  the  rest,  he  was  much  the  same  as  last  time, 
kindly,  decisive,  but  fussy,  and  little  concerned  about 
his  own  affairs.  Possibly  it  might  not  be  so  bad 
after  all.  Isak  ventured  to  point  out  that  the  hill- 

65 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

side  was  not  all  under  cultivation  yet,  but  only  some 
small  squares  here  and  there.  The  Lensmand  took 
the  information  in  a  curious  fashion.  "  I  knew  that 
well  enough,  of  course,  last  time  I  was  here,  when  I 
made  out  the  report.  But  Brede,  the  fellow  who 
was  with  me,  he  didn't  see  it.  Brede,  he's  no  earthly 
good.  But  they  work  it  out  by  table.  With  all  the 
ground  as  I  entered  it,  and  only  so  few  loads  of  hay, 
so  few  bushels  of  potatoes,  they'll  say  at  once  that 
it  must  be  poor  soil,  cheap  soil,  you  understand.  I 
did  my  best  for  you,  and  you  take  my  word  for  it, 
that'll  do  the  trick.  It's  two  and  thirty  thousand 
fellows  of  your  stamp  the  country  wants." 

The  Lensmand  nodded  and  turned  to  Inger. 
"  How  old's  the  youngest?  " 

"  He's  just  three-quarters  of  a  year." 

"And  a  boy,  is  he?" 

"  Yes." 

"  But  you  must  see  and  get  that  business  settled  as 
soon  as  ever  you  can,"  said  he  to  Isak  again. 
'  There's  another  man  wants  to  purchase  now,  mid- 
way between  here  and  the  village,  and  as  soon  as  he 
does,  this'll  be  worth  more.  You  buy  now,  get  the 
place  first,  and  let  the  price  go  up  after  —  that  way, 
you'll  be  getting  some  return  for  all  the  work  you've 
put  into  it.  It  was  you  that  started  cultivating  here 
at  all.  'Twas  all  wilderness  before." 

They  were  grateful  for  his  advice,  and  asked  if  it 
was  not  he  himself  that  would  arrange  the  matter. 
He  answered  that  he  had  done  all  he  could;  every- 

66 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

thing  now  depended  on  the  State.  "  I'm  going 
across  to  Vesterbotten  now,  and  I  shan't  be  coming 
back,"  he  told  them  straightforwardly. 

He  gave  Inger  an  Ort,  and  that  was  overmuch. 
"  You  can  take  a  bit  of  meat  down  to  my  people  in 
the  village  next  time  you're  killing,"  said  he.  "  My 
wife'll  pay  you.  Take  a  cheese  or  so,  too,  any  time 
you  can.  The  children  like  it." 

Isak  went  with  him  up  over  the  hills ;  it  was  firm, 
good  going  on  the  higher  ground,  easier  than  below. 
Isak  received  a  whole  Daler. 

In  that  manner  was  it  Lensmand  Geissler  left  the 
place,  and  he  did  not  come  back.  No  great  loss, 
folk  said,  he  being  looked  on  as  a  doubtful  person- 
age, an  adventurer.  Not  that  he  hadn't  the  knowl- 
edge ;  he  was  a  learned  man,  and  had  studied  this  and 
that,  but  he  lived  too  freely,  and  spent  other  people's 
money.  It  came  out  later  that  he  had  left  the  place 
after  a  sharp  reprimand  from  his  superior,  Amtmand 
Pleym;  but  nothing  was  done  about  his  family  of- 
ficially, and  they  went  on  living  there  a  good  while 
after  —  his  wife  and  three  children.  And  it  was  not 
long  before  the  money  unaccounted  for  was  sent 
from  Sweden,  so  that  Geissler's  wife  and  children 
could  not  be  said  to  be  held  as  hostages,  but  stayed 
on  simply  because  it  pleased  them. 

Isak  and  Inger  had  no  cause  to  complain  of  Geiss- 
ler's dealings  with  them,  not  by  a  long  way.  And 
there  was  no  saying  what  sort  of  man  his  successor 
would  be  —  perhaps  they  would  have  to  go  over  the 
whole  business  again! 

67 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

The  Amtmand  1  sent  one  of  his  clerks  up  to  the 
village,  to  be  the  new  Lensmand.  He  was  a  man 
about  forty,  son  of  a  local  magistrate,  by  name  Hey- 
erdahl.  He  had  lacked  the  means  to  go  to  the  uni- 
versity and  enter  the  service  that  way;  instead,  he 
had  been  constrained  to  sit  in  an  office,  writing  at 
a  desk,  for  fifteen  years.  He  was  unmarried,  hav- 
ing never  been  able  to  afford  a  wife.  His  chief, 
Amtmand  Pleym,  had  inherited  him  from  his  pre- 
decessor, and  paid  him  the  same  miserable  wage  that 
had  been  given  before ;  Heyerdahl  took  it,  and  went 
on  writing  at  his  desk  as  before. 

Isak  plucked  up  his  courage,  and  went  to  see  him. 

"  Documents  in  the  Sellanraa  case  .  .  .  ?  Here 
they  are,  just  returned  from  the  Department.  They 
want  to  know  all  sorts  of  things  —  the  whole  busi- 
ness is  in  a  dreadful  muddle,  as  Geissler  left  it,"  said 
the  official.  "  The  Department  wishes  to  be  in- 
formed as  to  whether  any  considerable  crop  of  mark- 
etable berries  is  to  be  reckoned  with  on  the  estate. 
Whether  there  is  any  heavy  timber.  Whether  pos- 
sibly there  may  be  ores  or  metals  of  value  in  the  hills 
adjoining.  Mention  is. made  of  water,  but  nothing 
stated  as  to  any  fishery  in  the  same.  This  Geissler 
appears  to  have  furnished  certain  information,  but 
he's  not  to  be  trusted,  and  here  have  I  to  go  through 
the  whole  affair  again  after  him.  I  shall  have  to 
come  up  to  Sellanraa  and  make  a  thorough  inspection 
and  valuation.  How  many  miles  is  it  up  there? 
The  Department,  of  course,  requires  that  adequate 

1  Governor  of  a  county. 

68 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

boundaries  be  drawn :  yes,  we  shall  have  to  beat  the 
bounds  in  due  order." 

"  'Tis  no  light  business  setting  up  boundaries  this 
time  of  year,"  said  Isak.  "  Not  till  later  on  in  the 
summer." 

"  Anyhow,  it'll  have  to  be  done.  The  Depart- 
ment can't  wait  all  through  the  summer  for  an  an- 
swer. I'll  come  up  myself  as  soon  as  I  can  get  away. 
I  shall  have  to  be  out  that  way  in  any  case,  there's 
another  plot  of  land  a  man's  inquiring  about." 

"  Will  that  be  him  that's  going  to  buy  up  between 
me  and  the  village?  " 

"  Can't  say,  I'm  sure.  Very  likely.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  it's  a  man  from  the  office  here,  my  assistant 
in  the  office.  He  was  here  in  Geissler's  time. 
Asked  Geissler  about  it,  I  understand,  but  Geissler 
put  him  off;  said  he  couldn't  cultivate  a  hundred 
yards  of  land.  So  he  sent  in  an  application  to  the 
Amtmand,  and  I'm  instructed  to  see  the  matter 
through.  More  of  Geissler's  muddling !  " 

Lensmand  Heyerdahl  came  up  to  the  farm,  and 
brought  with  him  his  assistant,  Brede.  They  had 
got  thoroughly  wet  crossing  the  moors,  and  wetter 
still  they  were  before  they'd  finished  tramping  the 
boundary  lines  through  melting  snow  and  slush  up 
and  down  the  hills.  The  Lensmand  set  to  work 
zealously  the  first  day,  but  on  the  second  he  had  had 
enough,  and  contented  himself  with  standing  still  for 
the  most  part,  pointing  and  shouting  directions. 
There  was  no  further  talk  about  prospecting  for  ore 
in  the  "  adjoining  hills,"  and  as  for  marketable  ber- 

69 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

ries  —  they  would  have  a  look  at  the  moors  on  the 
way  back,  he  said. 

The  Department  requested  information  on  quite 
a  number  of  points  —  there  were  tables  for  all  sorts 
of  things,  no  doubt.  The  only  thing  that  seemed 
reasonable  was  the  question  of  timber.  Certainly, 
there  was  some  heavy  timber,  and  that  within  the 
limits  of  Isak's  proposed  holding,  but  not  enough  to 
reckon  with  for  sale ;  no  more  than  would  be  required 
to  keep  up  the  place.  Even  if  there  had  been  timber 
in  plenty,  who  was  to  carry  it  all  the  many  miles  to 
where  it  could  be  sold?  Only  Isak,  trundling  like  a 
tub-wheel  through  the  forest  in  winter-time  carting 
some  few  heavy  sticks  down  to  the  village,  to  bring 
back  planks  and  boards  for  his  building. 

Geissler,  the  incomprehensible,  had,  it  seemed, 
sent  in  a  report  which  was  not  easily  upset.  Here 
was  his  successor  going  through  the  whole  thing 
again,  trying  to  find  mistakes  and  blatant  inaccuracies 
—  but  all  in  vain.  It  was  noticeable  that  he  con- 
sulted his  assistant  at  every  turn,  and  paid  heed  to 
what  he  said,  which  was  not  Geissler's  way  at  all. 
That  same  assistant,  moreover,  must  presumably 
have  altered  his  own  opinion,  since  he  was  now  a 
would-be  purchaser  himself  of  lands  from  the  com- 
mon ground  held  by  the  State. 

"What  about  the  price?"  asked  the  Lensmand. 

"  Fifty  Daler  is  the  most  they  can  fairly  ask  of 
any  buyer,"  answered  the  expert. 

I.ensmand  Heyerdahl  drew  up  his  report  in  ele- 
gant phrasing.  Geissler  had  written :  "  The  man 

70 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

will  also  have  to  pay  land  tax  every  year ;  he  cannot 
afford  to  pay  more  for  the  place  than  fifty  Daler,  in 
annual  instalments  over  ten  years.  The  State  can 
accept  his  offer,  or  take  away  his  land  and  the  fruits 
of  his  work."  Heyerdahl  wrote :  "  He  now  hum- 
bly begs  to  submit  this  application  to  the  Depart- 
ment: that  he  be  allowed  to  retain  this  land,  upon 
which,  albeit  without  right  of  possession,  he  has  up 
to  this  present  effected  considerable  improvements, 
for  a  purchase  price  of  50  —  fifty  — Speciedaler,  the 
amount  to  be  paid  in  annual  instalments  as  may  seem 
fit  to  the  Department  to  apportion  the  same." 

Lensmand  Heyerdahl  promised  Isak  to  do  his 
best.  "  I  hope  to  succeed  in  procuring  you  posses- 
sion of  the  estate,"  he  said. 


Chapter  VI 


THE  big  bull  is  to  be  sent  away.  It  has  grown 
to  an  enormous  beast,  and  costs  too  much 
to  feed;  Isak  is  taking  it  down  to  the  village, 
to  bring  up  a  suitable  yearling  in  exchange. 

It  was  Inger's  idea.  And  Inger  had  no  doubt  her 
own  reasons  for  getting  Isak  out  of  the  place  on  that 
particular  day. 

"  If  you  are  going  at  all,  you'd  better  go  today," 
she  said.  "  The  bull's  in  fine  condition;  'twill  fetch 
a  good  price  at  this  time  of  year.  You  take  him 
down  to  the  village,  and  they'll  send  him  to  be  sold 
in  town  —  townsfolk  pay  anything  for  their  meat." 

"  Ay,"  says  Isak. 

"  If  only  the  beast  doesn't  make  trouble  on  the 
way  down." 

Isak  made  no  answer. 

"  But  he's  been  out  and  about  now  this  last  week, 
and  getting  used  to  things." 

Isak  was  silent.  He  took  a  big  knife,  hung  it  in 
a  sheath  at  his  waist,  and  led  out  the  bull. 

A  mighty  beast  it  was,  glossy-coated  and  terrible 
to  look  at,  swaying  at  the  buttocks  as  it  walked.  A 
trifle  short  in  the  leg;  when  it  ran,  it  crushed  down 
the  undergrowth  with  its  chest;  it  was  like  a  railway 
engine.  Its  neck  was  huge  almost  to  deformity; 
there  was  the  strength  of  an  elephant  in  that  neck. 

72 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

u  If  only  he  doesn't  get  mad  with  you,"  said  Inger. 

Isak  thought  for  a  moment.  "  Why,  if  as  he 
takes  it  that  way,  I'll  just  have  to  slaughter  him 
half-way  and  carry  down  the  meat." 

Inger  sat  down  on  the  door-slab.  She  was  in 
pain;  her  face  was  aflame.  She  had  kept  her  feet 
till  Isak  was  gone;  now  he  and  the  bull  were  out  of 
sight,  and  she  could  give  way  to  a  groan  without 
fear.  Little  Eleseus  can  talk  a  little  already;  he 
asks:  "Mama  hurt?" — "Yes,  hurt."  He  mim- 
ics her,  pressing  his  hands  to  his  sides  and  groaning. 
Little  Sivert  is  asleep. 

Inger  takes  Eleseus  inside  the  house,  gives  him 
some  things  to  play  with  on  the  floor,  and  gets  into 
bed  herself.  Her  time  was  come.  She  is  perfectly 
conscious  all  the  while,  keeps  an  eye  on  Eleseus, 
glances  at  the  clock  on  the  wall  to  see  the  time. 
Never  a  cry,  hardly  a  movement;  the  struggle  is  in 
her  vitals  —  a  burden  is  loosened  and  glides  from 
her.  Almost  at  the  same  moment  she  hears  a 
strange  cry  in  the  bed,  a  blessed  little  voice;  poor 
thing,  poor  little  thing  .  .  .  and  now  she  cannot 
rest,  but  lifts  herself  up  and  looks  down.  What  is 
it?  Her  face  is  grey  and  blank  in  a  moment,  with- 
out expression  or  intelligence;  a  groan  is  heard;  un- 
natural, impossible  —  a  choking  gasp. 

She  slips  back  on  the  bed.  A  minute  passes;  she 
cannot  rest,  the  little  cry  down  there  in  the  bed  grows 
louder,  she  raises  herself  once  more,  and  sees  —  O 
God,  the  direst  of  all !  No  mercy,  no  hope  —  and 
this  a  girl! 

73 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Isak  could  not  have  gone  more  than  a  couple  of 
miles  or  so.  It  was  hardly  an  hour  since  he  had  left. 
In  less  than  ten  minutes  Inger  had  borne  her  child 
and  killed  it.  ... 

Isak  came  back  on  the  third  day,  leading  a  half- 
starved  yearling  bull.  The  beast  could  hardly  walk ; 
it  had  been  a  long  business  getting  up  to  the  place  at 
all. 

"  How  did  you  get  on?  "  asked  Inger.  She  her- 
self was  ill  and  miserable  enough. 

Isak  had  managed  very  well.  True,  the  big  bull 
had  been  mad  the  last  two  miles  or  so,  and  he  had 
to  tie  it  up  and  fetch  help  from  the  village.  Then, 
when  he  got  back,  it  had  broken  loose  and  took  a 
deal  of  time  to  find.  But  he  had  managed  somehow, 
and  had  sold  for  a  good  price  to  a  trader  in  the 
village,  buying  up  for  butchers  in  the  town.  "  And 
here's  the  new  one,"  said  Isak.  "  Let  the  children 
come  and  look." 

Any  addition  to  the  live  stock  was  a  great  event. 
Inger  looked  at  the  bull  and  felt  it  over,  asked  what 
it  had  cost;  little  Sivert  was  allowed  to  sit  on  its 
back.  "  I  shall  miss  the  big  one,  though,"  said 
Inger.  "  So  glossy  and  fine  he  was.  I  do  hope 
they'll  kill  him  nicely." 

It  was  the  busy  season  now,  and  there  was  work 
enough.  The  animals  were  let  loose;  in  the  empty 
shed  were  cases  and  bins  of  potatoes  left  to  grow. 
Isak  sowed  more  corn  this  year  than  last,  and  did  all 
he  could  to  get  it  nicely  down.  He  made  beds  for 

74 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

carrots  and  turnips,  and  Inger  sowed  the  seeds.  All 
went  on  as  before. 

Inger  went  about  for  some  time  with  a  bag  of  hay 
under  her  dress,  to  hide  any  change  in  her  figure,  tak- 
ing out  a  little  from  time  to  time,  and  finally  discard- 
ing the  bag  altogether.  At  last,  one  day,  Isak  no- 
ticed something,  and  asked  in  surprise : 

"Why,  how's  this?  Hasn't  anything  happened? 
I  thought.  ..." 

"  No.     Not  this  time." 

"  Ho.     Why,  what  was  wrong?  " 

"  'Twas  meant  to  be  so,  I  suppose.  Isak,  how 
long  d'you  think  it'll  take  you  to  work  over  all  this 
land  of  ours?  " 

"  Yes,  but  .  .  .  you  mean  you  had  your  trouble 
—  didn't  go  as  it  should?  " 

"  Ay,  that  was  it  —  yes." 

"  But  yourself  —  you're  not  hurt  anyway  after 
it?" 

"  No.  Isak,  I've  been  thinking,  we  ought  to  have 
a  pig." 

Isak  was  not  quick  to  change  the  subject  that  way. 
He  was  silent  a  little,  then  at  last  he  said:  "  Ay,  a 
pig.  I've  thought  of  that  myself  each  spring.  But 
we'll  need  to  have  more  potatoes  first,  and  more  of 
the  small,  and  a  bit  of  corn  beside ;  we've  not  enough 
to  feed  a  pig.  We'll  see  how  this  year  turns  out." 

"  But  it  would  be  nice  to  have  a  pig." 

"  Ay." 

Days  pass,  rain  conies,  fields  and  meadows  are 

75 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

looking  well  —  oh,  the  year  will  turn  out  well,  never 
fear!  Little  happenings  and  big,  all  in  their  turn: 
food,  sleep,  and  work;  Sundays,  with  washing  of 
faces  and  combing  of  hair,  and  Isak  sitting  about  in 
a  new  red  shirt  of  Inger's  weaving  and  sewing. 
Then  an  event,  a  happening  of  note  in  the  ordinary 
round :  a  sheep,  roaming  with  her  lamb,  gets  caught 
in  a  cleft  among  the  rocks.  The  others  come  home 
in  the  evening.  Inger  at  once  sees  there  are  two 
missing,  and  out  goes  Isak  in  search.  Isak's  first 
thought  is  to  be  thankful  it  is  Sunday,  so  he  is  not 
called  away  from  his  work  and  losing  time.  He 
tramps  off  —  there  is  an  endless  range  of  ground  to 
be  searched;  and,  meanwhile,  the  house  is  all  anxiety. 
Mother  hushes  the  children  with  brief  words;  there 
are  two  sheep  missing,  and  they  must  be  good.  All 
share  the  feeling;  what  has  happened  is  a  matter  for 
the  whole  little  community.  Even  the  cows  know 
that  something  unusual  is  going  on,  and  give  tongue 
in  their  own  fashion,  for  Inger  goes  out  every  now 
and  then,  calling  aloud  towards  the  woods,  though 
it  is  near  night.  It  is  an  event  in  the  wilderness,  a 
general  misfortune.  Now  and  again  she  gives  a 
long-drawn  hail  to  Isak,  but  there  is  no  answer;  he 
must  be  out  of  hearing. 

Where  are  the  sheep  —  what  can  have  come  to 
them?  Is  there  a  bear  abroad?  Or  have  the 
wolves  come  down  over  the  hills  from  Sweden  and 
Finland?  Neither,  as  it  turns  out.  Isak  finds  the 
ewe  stuck  fast  in  a  cleft  of  rock,  with  a  broken  leg 
and  lacerated  udder.  It  must  have  been  there  some 

76 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

time,  for,  despite  its  wounds,  the  poor  thing  has  nib- 
bled the  grass  down  to  the  roots  as  far  as  it  could 
reach.  Isak  lifts  the  sheep  and  sets  it  free;  it  falls 
to  grazing  at  once.  The  lamb  makes  for  its  mother 
and  sucks  away  —  a  blessed  relief  for  the  wounded 
udder  to  be  emptied  now. 

Isak  gathers  stones  and  fills  up  the  dangerous 
cleft;  a  wicked  place;  it  shall  break  no  more  sheep's 
thighs!  Isak  wears  leather  braces;  he  takes  them 
off  now  and  fastens  them  round  the  sheep's  middle, 
as  a  support  for  the  udder.  Then,  lifting  the  animal 
on  his  shoulders,  he  sets  off  home,  the  lamb  at  his 
heels. 

After  that  —  splints  and  tar  bandages.  In  a  few 
days'  time  the  patient  begins  twitching  the  foot  of 
the  wounded  leg;  it  is  the  fracture  aching  as  it  grows 
together.  Ay,  all  things  getting  well  again  —  until 
next  time  something  happens. 

The  daily  round;  little  matters  that  are  all  impor- 
tant to  the  settler-folk  themselves.  Oh,  they  are  not 
trifles  after  all,  but  things  of  fate,  making  for  their 
happiness  and  comfort  and  well-being,  or  against 
them. 

In  the  slack  time  between  the  seasons,  Isak 
smooths  down  some  new  tree-trunks  he  has  thrown; 
to  be  used  for  something  or  other,  no  doubt.  Also 
he  digs  out  a  number  of  useful  stones  and  gets  them 
down  to  the  house;  as  soon  as  there  are  stones 
enough,  he  builds  a  wall  of  them.  A  year  or  so 
back,  Inger  would  have  been  curious,  wondering  what 
her  man  was  after  with  all  this  —  now,  she  seemed 

77 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

for  the  most  part  busied  with  her  own  work,  and 
asked  no  questions.  Inger  is  busy  as  ever,  but  she 
has  taken  to  singing,  which  is  something  new,  and 
she  is  teaching  Eleseus  an  evening  prayer;  this  also 
is  something  new.  Isak  misses  her  questioning;  it 
was  her  curiosity  and  her  praise  of  all  he  did  that 
made  him  the  contented  man,  the  incomparable  man 
he  was.  But  now,  she  goes  by,  saying  nothing,  or 
at  most  with  a  word  or  so  that  he  is  working  himself 
to  death.  "  She's  troubled  after  that  last  time,  for 
all  she  says,"  thinks  Isak  to  himself. 

Oline  comes  over  to  visit  them  once  more.  If  all 
had  been  as  before  she  would  have  been  welcome, 
but  now  it  is  different.  Inger  greets  her  from  the 
first  with  some  ill-will;  be  it  what  it  may,  there  is 
something  that  makes  Inger  look  on  her  as  an 
enemy. 

"  I'd  half  a  thought  I'd  be  coming  just  at  the  right 
time  again,"  says  Oline,  with  delicate  meaning. 

"  How  d'you  mean?  " 

"  Why,  for  the  third  one  to  be  christened.  How 
is  it  with  you  now?  " 

"  Nay,"  says  Inger.  "  For  that  matter  you  might 
have  saved  yourself  the  trouble." 

11  Ho." 

Oline  falls  to  praising  the  children,  so  fine  and  big 
they've  grown;  and  Isak  taking  over  more  ground, 
and  going  to  build  again,  by  the  look  of  things  — 
there's  no  end  to  things  with  them;  a  wonderful 
place,  and  hard  to  find  its  like.  "  And  what  is  he 
going  to  build  this  time?  " 

78 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  Ask  him  yourself,"  says  Inger.  "  I  don't 
know." 

"  Nay,"  says  Oline.  "  'Tis  no  business  of  mine. 
I  just  looked  along  to  see  how  things  were  with  you 
here;  it's  a  pleasure  and  delight  for  me  to  see.  As 
for  Goldenhorns,  I'll  not  ask  nor  speak  of  her  — 
she's  fallen  into  proper  ways,  as  any  one  can  see." 

They  talk  for  a  while  companionably;  Inger  is  no 
longer  harsh.  The  clock  on  the  wall  strikes  with 
its  sweet  little  note.  Oline  looks  up  with  tears  in 
her  eyes;  never  in  all  her  humble  life  did  she  hear 
such  a  thing  — 'tis  like  church  and  organ  music,  says 
Oline.  Inger  feels  herself  rich  and  generous-minded 
towards  her  poor  relation,  and  says :  "  Come  into  the 
next  room  and  see  my  loom." 

Oline  stays  all  day.  She  talks  to  Isak,  and  praises 
all  his  doings.  "  And  I  hear  you've  bought  up  the 
land  for  miles  on  every  side.  Couldn't  you  have  got 
it  for  nothing,  then?  There's  none  as  I  can  see 
would  take  it  from  you." 

Isak  had  been  feeling  the  need  of  praise,  and  is 
the  better  for  it  now.  Feels  a  man  again.  "  I'm 
buying  from  the  Government,"  says  Isak. 

"  Ay,  Government.  But  they've  no  call  to  be 
grasping  in  a  deal,  surely?  What  are  you  building 
now?" 

"  Why,  I  don't  know.     Nothing  much,  anyway." 

"Ay,  you're  getting  on;  building  and  getting  on 
you  are.  Painted  doors  to  the  house,  and  a  clock 
on  the  wall  — 'tis  a  new  grand  house  you're  building, 
I  suspect." 

79 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

'  You,  with  your  foolish  talk  .  .  ."  says  Isak. 
But  he  is  pleased  all  the  same,  and  says  to  Inger: 
"  Couldn't  you  make  a  bit  of  a  dish  of  nice  cream 
custard  for  one  that  comes  a-visiting?  " 

'  That  I  can't,"  says  Inger,  "  for  I've  churned  all 
there  was." 

"  'Tis  no  foolish  talk,"  puts  in  Oline  hurriedly; 
"  I'm  but  a  simple  woman  asking  to  know.  And  if 
it's  not  a  new  grand  house,  why,  'twill  be  a  new  big 
barn,  I  dare  say;  and  why  not?  With  all  these  fields 
and  meadow  lands,  fine  and  full  of  growth ;  ay,  and 
full  of  milk  and  honey,  as  the  Bible  says." 

Isak  asks:  "  How's  things  looking  your  way  — 
crops  and  the  like?  " 

"  Why,  'tis  there  as  it  is  till  now.  If  only  the 
Lord  don't  set  fire  to  it  all  again  this  year,  and  burn 
up  the  lot  —  Heaven  forgive  me  I  should  say  the 
word.  'Tis  all  in  His  hand  and  almighty  power. 
But  we've  nothing  our  parts  that's  any  way  like  this 
place  of  yours  to  compare,  and  that's  the  solemn 
truth." 

Inger  asks  after  other  relatives,  her  Uncle  Sivert 
in  particular.  He  is  the  great  man  of  the  family, 
and  owns  rich  fisheries ;  'tis  almost  a  wonder  how  he 
can  find  a  way  to  spend  all  he  has.  The  women  talk 
of  Uncle  Sivert,  and  Isak  and  his  doings  somehow 
drop  out  of  sight;  no  one  asks  any  more  about  his 
building  now,  so  at  last  he  says : 

"  Well,  if  you  want  to  know,  'tis  a  bit  of  a  barn 
with  a  threshing-floor  I'm  trying  to  get  set  up." 

"  Just  as  I  thought,"  says  Oline.  "  Folk  with  real 
80 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

sound  sense  in  their  heads,  they  do  that  way.  Fore- 
thought and  back-thought  and  all  as  it  should  be. 
There's  not  a  pot  nor  pitcher  in  the  place  you  haven't 
thought  of.  A  threshing-floor,  you  said?  " 

Isak  is  a  child.  Oline's  flattering  words  go  to  his 
head,  and  he  answers  something  foolishly  with  fine 
words :  "  As  to  that  new  house  of  mine,  there  must 
be  a  threshing-floor  in  the  same,  necessarily.  'Tis 
my  intention  so." 

"A  threshing-floor?"  says  Oline,  wagging  her 
head. 

"  And  where's  the  sense  of  growing  corn  on  the 
place  if  we've  nowhere  to  thresh  it?  " 

"  Ay,  'tis  as  I  say,  not  a  thing  as  could  be  but  you 
have  it  all  there  in  your  head." 

Inger  is  suddenly  out  of  humour  again.  The  talk 
between  the  other  two  somehow  displeases  her,  and 
she  breaks  in : 

"  Cream  custard  indeed!  And  where's  the  cream 
to  come  from?  Fish  it  up  in  the  river,  maybe?  " 

Oline  hastens  to  make  peace.  "  Inger,  Lord  bless 
you,  child,  don't  speak  of  such  a  thing.  Not  a  word 
of  cream  nor  custard  either  —  an  old  creature  like 
me  that  does  but  idle  about  from  house  to  neigh- 
bour ...  I  " 

Isak  sits  for  a  while,  then  up,  and  saying  sud- 
denly: "  Here  am  I  doing  nothing  middle  of  the 
day,  and  stones  to  fetch  and  carry  for  that  wall  of 
mine!" 

"  Ay,  a  wall  like  that'll  need  a  mighty  lot  of  stone, 
to  be  sure." 

81 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"Stone?"  says  Isak.  "  Tis  like  as  if  there'd 
never  be  enough." 

When  Isak  is  gone,  the  two  womenfolk  get  on 
nicely  together  for  a  while;  they  sit  for  hours  talk- 
ing of  this  and  that.  In  the  evening,  Oline  must 
go  out  and  see  how  their  live  stock  has  grown :  cows, 
a  bull,  two  calves,  and  a  swarm  of  sheep  and  goats. 
"  I  don't  know  where  it'll  ever  end,"  says  Oline,  with 
her  eyes  turned  heavenwards. 

And  Oline  stays  the  night. 

Next  morning  she  goes  off  again.  Once  more  she 
has  a  bundle  of  something  with  her.  Isak  is  work- 
ing in  the  quarry,  and  she  goes  another  way  round, 
so  that  he  shall  not  see. 

Two  hours  later,  Oline  comes  back  again,  steps 
into  the  house,  and  asks  at  once:  "Where  is 
Isak?  " 

Inger  is  washing  up.  Oline  should  have  passed 
by  the  quarry  where  Isak  was  at  work,  and  the  chil- 
dren with  him;  Inger  at  once  guesses  something 
wrong. 

"  Isak?     What  d'you  want  with  him?  " 

"Want  with  him?  —  why,  nothing.  Only  I 
didn't  see  him  to  say  good-bye." 

Silence.  Oline  sits  down  on  a  bench  without  be- 
ing asked,  drops  down  as  if  her  legs  refuse  to  carry 
her.  Her  manner  is  intended  to  show  that  some- 
thing serious  is  the  matter;  she  is  overcome. 

Inger  can  control  herself  no  longer.  Her  face  is 
all  terror  and  fury  as  she  says : 

82 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  I  saw  what  you  sent  me  by  Os-Anders.  Ay, 
'twas  a  nice  thing  to  send!  " 

11  Why  .  .  .  what  ...   ?  " 

11  That  hare." 

"  What  do  you  mean?  "  asks  Oline  in  a  strangely 
gentle  voice. 

"  Ah,  don't  deny  it !  "  cries  Inger,  her  eyes  wild. 
"  I'll  break  your  face  in  with  this  ladle  here  —  see 
that!" 

Struck  her  ?  Ay,  she  did  so.  Oline  took  the  first 
blow  without  falling,  and  only  cried  out:  "  Mind 
what  you're  doing,  woman!  I  know  what  I  know 
about  you  and  your  doings!  "  Inger  strikes  again, 
gets  Oline  down  to  the  floor,  falls  on  her  there,  and 
thrusts  her  knees  into  her. 

"  D'you  mean  to  murder  me?  "  asks  Oline.  The 
terrible  woman  with  the  hare-lip  was  kneeling  on  her, 
a  great  strong  creature  armed  with  a  huge  wooden 
ladle,  heavy  as  a  club.  Oline  was  bruised  already, 
and  bleeding,  but  still  sullenly  refusing  to  cry  out. 
"  So  you're  trying  to  murder  me  too!  " 

"  Ay,  kill  you,"  says  Inger,  striking  again. 
"  There !  I'll  see  you  dead  before  I've  done  with 
you."  She  was  certain  of  it  now.  Oline  knew  her 
secret;  nothing  mattered  now.  "I'll  spoil  your 
beastly  face." 

"Beastly  face?"  gasps  Oline.  "Huh!  Look 
to  your  own.  With  the  Lord  His  mark  on  it !  " 

Oline  is  hard,  and  will  not  give  in ;  Inger  is  forced 
to  give  over  the  blows  that  are  exhausting  her  own 

83 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

strength.  But  she  threatens  still  —  glares  into  the 
other's  eyes  and  swears  she  has  not  finished  with  her 
yet.  "  There's  more  to  come,  ay,  more,  more. 
Wait  till  I  get  a  knife.  I'll  show  you !  " 

She  gets  on  her  feet  again,  and  moves  as  if  to  look 
for  a  knife,  a  table  knife.  But  now  her  fury  is  past 
its  worst,  and  she  falls  back  on  curses  and  abuse. 
Oline  heaves  herself  up  to  the  bench  again,  her  face 
all  blue  and  yellow,  swollen  and  bleeding;  she  wipes 
the  hair  from  her  forehead,  straightens  her  kerchief, 
and  spits;  her  mouth  too  is  bruised  and  swollen. 
"  You  devil !  "  she  says. 

"  You've  been  nosing  about  in  the  woods!  "  cries 
Inger.  "  That's  what  you've  been  doing.  You've 
found  that  little  bit  of  a  grave  there.  Better  if 
you'd  dug  one  for  yourself  the  same  time." 

"  Ay,  you  wait,"  says  Oline,  her  eyes  glowing  re- 
vengefully. "  I'll  say  no  more  —  but  you  wait  — 
there'll  be  no  fine  two-roomed  house  for  you,  with 
musical  clocks  and  all." 

"  You  can't  take  it  from  me,  anyway!  " 
"  Ay,  you  wait.     You'll  see  what  Oline  can  do." 
And  so  they  keep  on.     Oline  does  not  curse,  and 
hardly  raises  her  voice;  there  is  something  almost 
gentle  in  her  cold  cruelty,  but  she  is  bitterly  danger- 
ous.    "Where's    that   bundle?     I    left    it    in    the 
woods.     But  you  shall  have  it  back  —  I'll  not  own 
your  wool." 

"  Ho,  you  think  I've  stolen  it,  maybe." 

"  Ah,  you  know  best  what  you've  done." 

So  back  and  forth  again  about  the  wool.     Inger 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

offers  to  show  the  very  sheep  it  was  cut  from.  Oline 
asks  quietly,  smoothly:  "  Ay,  but  who  knows  where 
you  got  the  first  sheep  to  start  with?  " 

Inger  names  the  place  and  people  where  her  first 
sheep  were  out  to  keep  with  their  lambs.  "  And  you 
mind  and  care  and  look  to  what  you're  saying,"  says 
she  threateningly.  "  Guard  your  mouth,  or  you'll 
be  sorry." 

"  Ha  ha  ha  !  "  laughs  Oline  softly.  Oline  is  never 
at  a  loss,  never  to  be  silenced.  "  My  mouth,  eh? 
And  what  of  your  own,  my  dear?  "  She  points  to 
Inger's  hare-lip,  calling  her  a  ghastly  sight  for  God 
and  man. 

Inger  answers  furiously,  and  Oline  being  fat,  she 
calls  her  a  lump  of  blubber  — "  a  lump  of  dog's  blub- 
ber like  you.  You  sent  me  a  hare  —  I'll  pay  you 
for  that." 

"Hare  again?"  says  Oline.  "If  I'd  no  more 
guilt  in  anything  than  I  have  about  that  hare.  What 
was  it  like?  " 

"  What  was  it  like  ?  Why,  what's  a  hare  always 
like?" 

"  Like  you.     The  very  image." 

"Out    with    you  —  get    out!"     shrieks    Inger. 

'Twas  you  sent  Os-Anders  with  that  hare.  I'll 
have  you  punished;  I'll  have  you  put  in  prison  for 
that." 

"  Prison  —  was  it  prison  you  said?  " 

"  Oh,  you're  jealous  and  envious  of  all  you  see; 
you  hate  me  for  all  the  good  things  I've  got,"  says 
Inger  again.  '  You've  lain  awake  with  envy  since 

8s 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

I  got  Isak  and  all  that's  here.  Heavens,  woman, 
what  have  I  ever  done  to  you?  Is  it  my  fault  that 
your  children  never  got  on  in  the  world,  and  turned 
out  badly,  every  one  of  them?  You  can't  bear  the 
sight  of  mine,  because  they're  fine  and  strong,  and 
better  named  than  yours.  Is  it  my  fault  they're 
prettier  flesh  and  blood  than  yours  ever  were?  " 

If  there  was  one  thing  could  drive  Oline  to  fury  it 
was  this.  She  had  been  a  mother  many  times,  and 
all  she  had  was  her  children,  such  as  they  were ;  she 
made  much  of  them,  and  boasted  of  them,  told  of 
great  things  they  had  never  really  done,  and  hid  their 
faults. 

"  What's  that  you're  saying?  "  answered  Oline. 
"  Oh  that  you  don't  sink  in  your  grave  for  shame  1 
My  children!  They  were  a  bright  host  of  angels 
compared  with  yours.  You  dare  to  speak  of  my 
children?  Seven  blessed  gifts  of  God  they  were 
from  they  were  little,  and  all  grown  up  now  every 
one.  You  dare  to  speak.  .  .  ." 

'  What  about  Lise,  that  was  sent  to  prison?  "  asks 
Inger. 

"  For  never  a  thing.  She  was  as  innocent  as  a 
flower,"  answers  Oline.  "  And  she's  in  Bergen  now ; 
lives  in  a  town  and  wears  a  hat  —  but  what  about 
you?" 

"  What  about  Nils  —  what  did  they  say  of  him?  " 

"  Oh,  I'll  not  lower  myself.  .  .  .  But  there's  one 
of  yours  now  lying  buried  out  there  in  the  woods  — 
what  did  you  do  to  it,  eh?  " 

"  Now  .  .  .  I  One-two-three  —  out  you  go !  " 
86 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

shrieks  Inger  again,   and  makes  a  rush  at  Oline. 

But  Oline  does  not  move,  does  not  even  rise  to  her 
feet.  Her  stolid  indifference  paralyses  Inger,  who 
draws  back,  muttering:  "Wait  till  I  get  that 
knife." 

"  Don't  trouble,"  says  Oline.  "  I'm  going.  But 
as  for  you,  turning  your  own  kin  out  of  doors  one- 
two-three.  .  .  .  Nay,  I'll  say  no  more." 

"  Get  out  of  this,  that's  all  you  need  to  do !  " 

But  Oline  is  not  gone  yet.  The  two  of  them  fall 
to  again  with  words  and  abuse,  a  long  bout  of  it 
again,  and  when  the  clock  strikes  half  of  the  hour, 
Oline  laughs  scornfully,  making  Inger  wilder  than 
ever.  At  last  both  calm  down  a  little,  and  Oline 
makes  ready  to  go.  "  I've  a  long  road  before  me," 
says  she,  "  and  it's  late  enough  to  be  starting.  It 
wouldn't  ha'  been  amiss  to  have  had  a  bite  with  me 
on  the  way.  .  .  ." 

Inger  makes  no  answer.  She  has  come  to  her 
senses  again  now,  and  pours  out  water  in  a  basin  for 
Oline  to  wash.  '  There  —  if  you  want  to  tidy 
yourself,"  she  says.  Oline  too  thinks  it  as  well  to 
make  herself  as  decent  as  may  be,  but  cannot  see 
where  the  blood  is,  and  washes  the  wrong  places. 
Inger  looks  on  for  a  while,  and  then  points  with  her 
finger. 

"  There  —  wash  there  too,  over  your  eye.  No, 
not  that,  the  other  one;  can't  you  see  where  I'm 
pointing?  " 

"  How  can  I  see  which  one  you're  pointing  at," 
answers  Oline. 

87 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  And  there's  more  there,  by  your  mouth.  Are 
you  afraid  of  water?  —  it  won't  bite  you!  " 

In  the  end,  Inger  washes  the  patient  herself,  and 
throws  her  a  towel. 

"  What  I  was  going  to  say,"  says  Oline,  wiping 
herself,  and  quite  peaceable  now.  "  About  Isak  and 
the  children  —  how  will  they  get  over  this?  " 

"  Does  he  know?  "  asks  Inger. 

"  Know?     He  came  and  saw  it." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"What  could  he  say?  He  was  speechless,  same 
as  me." 

Silence. 

"  It's  all  your  fault,"  wails  Inger,  beginning  to 
cry. 

"  My  fault?  I  wish  I  may  never  have  more  to 
answer  for !  " 

"  I'll  ask  Os-Anders,  anyhow,  be  sure  of  that." 

"  Ay,  do." 

They  talk  it  all  over  quietly,  and  Oline  seems  less 
revengeful  now.  An  able  politician,  is  Oline,  and 
quick  to  find  expedients ;  she  speaks  now  as  if  in  sym- 
pathy —  what  a  terrible  thing  it  will  be  for  Isak  and 
the  children  when  it  is  found  out  1 

"  Yes,"  says  Inger,  crying  again.  "  I've  thought 
and  thought  of  that  night  and  day."  Oline  thinks 
she  might  be  able  to  help,  and  be  a  saviour  to  them 
in  distress.  She  could  come  and  stay  on  the  place 
to  look  after  things,  while  Inger  is  in  prison. 

Inger  stops  crying;  stops  suddenly  as  if  to  listen 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

and  take  thought.  "  No,  you  don't  care  for  the 
children." 

"  Don't  care  for  them,  don't  I?  How  could  you 
say  such  a  thing?  " 

"  Ah,  I  know.  .  .  ." 

"  Why,  if  there's  one  thing  in  the  world  I  do  feel 
and  care  for,  'tis  children." 

"  Ay,  for  your  own,"  says  Inger.  "  But  how 
would  you  be  with  mine?  And  when  I  think  how 
you  sent  that  hare  for  nothing  else  but  to  ruin  me 
altogether  —  oh,  you're  no  better  than  a  heap  of 
wickedness !  " 

"  Am  I?  "  says  Oline.     "  Is  it  me  you  mean?  " 

"  Yes,  'tis  you  I  mean,"  says  Inger,  crying; 
"  you've  been  a  wicked  wretch,  you  have,  and  I'll  not 
trust  you.  And  you'd  steal  all  the  wool,  too,  if  you 
did  come.  And  all  the  cheeses  that'd  go  to  your 
people  instead  of  mine.  .  .  ." 

"  Oh,  you  wicked  creature  to  think  of  such  a 
thing!  "  answers  Oline. 

Inger  cries,  and  wipes  her  eyes,  saying  a  word  or 
so  between.  Oline  does  not  try  to  force  her.  If 
Inger  does  not  care  about  the  idea,  'tis  all  the  same 
to  her.  She  can  go  and  stay  with  her  son  Nils,  as 
she  has  always  done.  But  now  that  Inger  is  to  be 
sent  away  to  prison,  it  will  be  a  hard  time  for  Isak 
and  the  innocent  children;  Oline  could  stay  on  the 
place  and  give  an  eye  to  things.  "  You  can  think  it 
over,"  says  Oline. 

Inger  has  lost  the  day.     She  cries  and  shakes  her 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

head  and  looks  down.  She  goes  out  as  if  walking 
in  her  sleep,  and  makes  up  a  parcel  of  food  for  Oline 
to  take  with  her.  "  'Tis  more  than's  worth  your 
while,"  says  Oline. 

"  You  can't  go  all  that  way  without  a  bite  to  eat," 
says  Inger. 

When  Oline  has  gone,  Inger  steals  out,  looks 
round,  and  listens.  No,  no  sound  from  the  quarry. 
She  goes  nearer,  and  hears  the  children  playing  with 
little  stones.  Isak  is  sitting  down,  holding  the  crow- 
bar between  his  knees,  and  resting  on  it  like  a  staff. 
There  he  sits. 

Inger  steals  away  into  the  edge  of  the  wood. 
There  was  a  spot  where  she  had  set  a  little  cross  in 
the  ground;  the  cross  is  thrown  down  now,  and 
where  it  stood  the  turf  has  been  lifted,  and  the 
ground  turned  over.  She  stoops  down  and  pats  the 
earth  together  again  with  her  hands.  And  there 
she  sits. 

She  had  come  out  of  curiosity,  to  see  how  far  the 
little  grave  had  been  disturbed  by  Oline;  she  stays 
there  now  because  the  cattle  have  not  yet  come  in 
for  the  night.  Sits  there  crying,  shaking  her  head, 
and  looking  down. 


90 


Chapter  VII 

AND  the  days  pass. 
A  blessed  time  for  the  soil,  with  sun  and 
showers  of  rain;  the  crops  are  looking  well. 
The  haymaking  is  nearly  over  now,  and  they  have 
got  in  a  grand  lot  of  hay;  almost  more  than  they  can 
find  room  for.  Some  is  stowed  away  under  over- 
hanging rocks,  in  the  stable,  under  the  flooring  of 
the  house  itself;  the  shed  at  the  side  is  emptied  of 
everything  to  make  room  for  more  hay.  Inger  her- 
self works  early  and  late,  a  faithful  helper  and  sup- 
port. Isak  takes  advantage  of  every  fall  of  rain  to 
put  in  a  spell  of  roofing  on  the  new  barn,  and  get  the 
south  wall  at  least  fully  done;  once  that  is  ready, 
they  can  stuff  in  as  much  hay  as  they  please.  The 
work  is  going  forward;  they  will  manage,  never 
fear! 

And  their  great  sorrow  and  disaster  —  ay,  it  was 
there,  the  thing  was  done,  and  what  it  brought  must 
come.  (  Good  things  mostly  leave  no  trace,  but  some-*"7 
|  thing  always  comes  of  evil.     Isak  took  the  matter' 
V  sensibly  from  the  first.     He  made  no  great  words 
about  it,  but  asked  his  wife  simply:     "  How  did  you 
come  to  do  it?"     Inger  made  no  answer  to  that. 
And  a  little  after,  he  spoke  again:     "  Strangled  it 
—  was  that  what  you  did?  " 
"  Yes,"  said  Inger. 

91 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  You  shouldn't  have  done  that." 

"  No,"  she  agreed. 

"  And  I  can't  make  out  how  you  ever  could  bring 
yourself  to  do  it." 

"  She  was  all  the  same  as  myself,"  said  Inger. 

"  How  d'you  mean?  " 

"  Her  mouth." 

Isak  thought  over  that  for  some  time.  "  Ay, 
well,"  said  he. 

And  nothing  more  was  said  about  it  at  the  time; 
the  days  went  on,  peacefully  as  ever;  there  was  all 
the  mass  of  hay  to  be  got  in,  and  a  rare  heavy  crop 
all  round,  so  that  by  degrees  the  thing  slipped  into 
the  background  of  their  minds.  But  it  hung  over 
them,  and  over  the  place,  none  the  less.  They  could 
not  hope  that  Oline  would  keep  the  secret;  it  was  too 
much  to  expect.  And  even  if  Oline  said  nothing, 
others  would  speak;  dumb  witnesses  would  find  a 
tongue;  the  walls  of  the  house,  the  trees  around  the 
little  grave  in  the  wood.  Os-Anders  the  Lapp  would 
throw  out  hints ;  Inger  herself  would  betray  it,  sleep- 
ing or  waking.  They  were  prepared  for  the  worst. 

Isak  took  the  matter  sensibly  —  what  else  was 
there  to  do?  He  knew  now  why  Inger  had  always 
taken  care  to  be  left  alone  at  every  birth;  to  be  alone 
with  her  fears  of  how  the  child  might  be,  and  face 
the  danger  with  no  one  by.  Three  times  she  had 
done  the  same  thing.  Isak  shook  his  head,  touched 
with  pity  for  her  ill  fate  —  poor  Inger.  He 
learned  of  the  coming  of  the  Lapp  with  the  hare, 
and  acquitted  her.  It  led  to  a  great  love  between 

92 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

them,  a  wild  love ;  they  drew  closer  to  each  other  in 
their  peril.  Inger  was  full  of  a  desperate  sweet- 
ness towards  him,  and  the  great  heavy  fellow,  lum- 
bering carrier  of  burdens,  felt  a  greed  and  an  endless 
desire  for  her  in  himself.  And  Inger,  for  all  that 
she  wore  hide  shoes  like  a  Lapp,  was  no  withered 
little  creature  as  the  Lapland  women  are,  but  splen- 
didly big.  It  was  summer  now,  and  she  went  about 
barefooted,  with  her  naked  legs  showing  almost  to 
the  knee  —  Isak  could  not  keep  his  eyes  from  those 
bare  legs. 

All  through  the  summer  she  went  about  singing 
bits  of  hymns,  and  she  taught  Eleseus  to  say  prayers; 
but  there  grew  up  in  her  an  unchristian  hate  of  all 
Lapps,  and  she  spoke  plainly  enough  to  any  that 
passed.  Some  one  might  have  sent  them  again;  like 
as  not  they  had  a  hare  in  their  bag  as  before;  let 
them  go  on  their  way,  and  no  more  about  it. 

"A  hare?     What  hare?" 

"  Ho,  you  haven't  heard  perhaps  what  Os-Anders 
he  did  that  time?  " 

"  No." 

"  Well,  I  don't  care  who  knows  it  —  he  came  up 
here  with  a  hare,  when  I  was  with  child." 

"  Dear,  and  that  was  a  dreadful  thing !  And 
what  happened?  " 

"  Never  you  mind  what  happened,  just  get  along 
with  you,  that's  all.  Here's  a  bite  of  food,  and  get 
along." 

"  You  don't  happen  to  have  an  odd  bit  of  leather 
anywhere,  I  could  mend  my  shoe  with?  " 

93 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  No !  But  I'll  give  you  a  bit  of  stick  if  you  don't 
get  out!  " 

Now  a  Lapp  will  beg  as  humbly  as  could  be,  but 
say  no  to  him,  and  he  turns  bad,  and  threatens.  A 
pair  of  Lapps  with  two  children  came  past  the  place; 
the  children  were  sent  up  to  the  house  to  beg,  and 
came  back  and  said  there  was  no  one  to  be  seen 
about  the  place.  The  four  of  them  stood  there  a 
while  talking  in  their  own  tongue,  then  the  man  went 
up  to  see.  He  went  inside,  and  stayed.  Then  his 
wife  went  up,  and  the  children  after;  all  of  them 
stood  inside  the  doorway,  talking  Lapp.  The  man 
puts  his  head  in  the  doorway  and  peeps  through  into 
the  room;  no  one  there  either.  The  clock  strikes 
the  hour,  and  the  whole  family  stand  listening  in 
wonder. 

Inger  must  have  had  some  idea  there  were  strang- 
ers about;  she  comes  hurrying  down  the  hillside,  and 
seeing  Lapps,  strange  Lapps  into  the  bargain,  asks 
them  straight  out  what  they  are  doing  there. 
"What  do  you  want  in  here?  Couldn't  you  see 
there  was  no  one  at  home?  " 

"  H'm  .  .  ."  says  the  man. 

"  Get  out  with  you,"  says  Inger  again,  "  and  go 
on  your  way." 

The  Lapps  move  out  slowly,  unwillingly.  "  We 
were  just  listening  to  that  clock  of  yours,"  says  the 
man;  "  'tis  a  wonder  to  hear,  that  it  is." 

"  You  haven't  a  bit  of  bread  to  spare?  "  says  his 
wife. 

"  Where  do  you  come  from?  "  asks  Inger. 

94 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  From  the  water  over  beyond.  We've  been 
walking  all  night." 

"  And  where  are  you  going  to  now?  " 

"  Across  the  hills." 

Inger  makes  up  some  food  for  them;  when  she 
comes  out  with  it,  the  woman  starts  begging  again: 
a  bit  of  stuff  for  a  cap,  a  tuft  of  wool,  a  stump  of 
cheese  —  anything.  Inger  has  no  time  to  waste, 
Isak  and  the  children  are  in  the  hayfield.  "  Be  off 
with  you  now,"  she  says. 

The  woman  tries  flattery.  "  We  saw  your  place 
up  here,  and  the  cattle  —  a  host  of  them,  like  the 
stars  in  the  sky." 

"  Ay,  a  wonder,"  says  the  man.  "  You  haven't 
a  pair  of  old  shoes  to  give  away  to  needy  folk?  " 

Inger  shuts  the  door  of  the  house  and  goes  back 
to  her  work  on  the  hillside.  The  man  called  after 
her  —  she  pretended  not  to  hear,  and  walked  on 
unheeding.  But  she  heard  it  well  enough:  "You 
don't  want  to  buy  any  hares,  maybe?  " 

There  was  no  mistaking  what  he  had  said.  The 
Lapp  himself  might  have  spoken  innocently  enough ; 
some  one  had  told  him,  perhaps.  Or  he  might  have 
meant  it  ill.  Be  that  as  it  may,  Inger  took  it  as  a 
warning  —  a  message  of  what  was  to  come.  .  .  . 

The  days  went  on.  The  settlers  were  healthy 
folk ;  what  was  to  come  would  come ;  they  went  about 
their  work  and  waited.  They  lived  close  to  each 
other  like  beasts  of  the  forest;  they  slept  and  ate; 
already  the  year  was  so  far  advanced  that  they  had 
tried  the  new  potatoes,  and  found  them  large  and 

95 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

floury.  The  blow  that  was  to  fall  —  why  did  it  not 
come  ?  It  was  late  in  August  already,  soon  it  would 
be  September;  were  they  to  be  spared  through  the 
winter?  They  lived  in  a  constant  watchfulness; 
every  night  they  crept  close  together  in  their  cave, 
thankful  that  the  day  had  passed  without  event. 
And  so  the  time  went  on  until  one  day  in  October, 
when  the  Lensmand  came  up  with  a  man  and  a  bag. 
The  Law  stepped  in  through  their  doorway. 

The  investigation  took  some  time.  Inger  was 
called  up  and  examined  privately;  she  denied  noth- 
ing. The  grave  in  the  wood  was  opened,  and  its 
contents  removed,  the  body  being  sent  for  examina- 
tion. The  little  body  —  it  was  dressed  in  Eleseus' 
christening  robe,  and  a  cap  sewn  over  with  beads. 

Isak  seemed  to  find  speech  again.  "  Ay,"  said 
he,  "  it's  as  bad  as  well  can  be  with  us  now.  I've 
said  before  —  you  ought  never  to  have  done  it." 

"  No,"  said  Inger. 

"  How  did  you  do  it?" 

Inger  made  no  answer. 

"  That  you  could  find  it  in  your  heart.  .  .  ." 

"  She  was  just  the  same  as  myself  to  look  at. 
And  so  I  took  and  twisted  her  face  round." 

Isak  shook  his  head  slowly. 

"  And  then  she  was  dead,"  went  on  Inger,  begin- 
ning to  cry. 

Isak  was  silent  for  a  while.  "  Well,  well,  'tis  too 
late  to  be  crying  over  it  now,"  said  he. 

"  She  had  brown  hair,"  sobbed  Inger,  "  there  at 
the  back  of  her  head.  .  .  ." 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

And  again  no  more  was  said. 

Time  went  on  as  before.  Inger  was  not  locked 
up;  the  law  was  merciful.  Lensmand  Heyerdahl 
asked  her  questions  just  as  he  might  have  spoken  to 
any  one,  and  only  said,  "  It's  a  great  pity  such  things 
should  happen  at  all."  Inger  asked  who  had  in- 
formed against  her,  but  the  Lensmand  answered  that 
it  was  no  one  in  particular;  many  had  spoken  of  the 
matter,  and  he  had  heard  of  it  from  several  quar- 
ters. Had  she  not  herself  said  something  about  it  to 
some  Lapps? 

Inger  —  ay,  she  had  told  some  Lapps  about  Os- 
Anders,  how  he  came  and  brought  a  hare  that  sum- 
mer, and  gave  her  unborn  child  the  hare-lip.  And 
wasn't  it  Oline  who  had  sent  the  hare?  —  The  Lens- 
mand knew  nothing  about  that.  But  in  any  case, 
he  could  not  think  of  putting  down  such  ignorant  sup- 
erstition in  his  report. 

"  But  my  mother  saw  a  hare  just  before  I  was 
born,"  said  Inger.  .  .  . 

The  barn  was  finished;  a  great  big  place  it  was, 
with  hay-stalls  on  both  sides  and  a  threshing-floor  in 
the  middle.  The  shed  and  the  other  makeshift 
places  were  emptied  now,  and  all  the  hay  brought 
into  the  barn;  the  corn  was  reaped,  dried  in  stacks, 
and  carted  in.  Inger  took  up  the  carrots  and  tur- 
nips. All  their  crops  were  in  now.  And  everything 
might  have  been  well  with  them  —  they  had  all  they 
needed.  Isak  had  started  on  new  ground  again,  be- 
fore the  frost  came,  to  make  a  bigger  cornfield;  Isak 
was  a  tiller  of  the  soil.  But  in  November  Inger  said 

97 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

one  day,  "  She  would  have  been  six  months  old  now, 
and  known  us  all." 

"  'Tis  no  good  talking  of  that  now,"  said  Isak. 

When  the  winter  came,  Isak  threshed  his  corn  on 
the  new  threshing-floor,  and  Inger  helped  him  often, 
with  an  arm  as  quick  to  the  work  as  his  own,  while 
the  children  played  in  the  haystalls  at  the  side.  It 
was  fine  plump  grain.  Early  in  the  new  year  the 
roads  were  good,  and  Isak  started  carting  down  his 
loads  of  wood  to  the  village ;  he  had  his  regular  cus- 
tomers now,  and  the  summer-dried  wood  fetched  a 
good  price.  One  day  he  and  Inger  agreed  that  they 
should  take  the  fine  bull-calf  from  Goldenhorns  and 
drive  it  down  to  Fru  Geissler,  with  a  cheese  into  the 
bargain.  She  was  delighted,  and  asked  how  much  it 
cost. 

"  Nothing,"  said  Isak.  "  The  Lensmand  paid 
for  it  before." 

"  Heaven  bless  him,  and  did  he?  "  said  Fru  Geiss- 
ler, touched  at  the  thought.  She  sent  things  up  for 
Eleseus  and  Sivert  in  return  —  cakes  and  picture- 
books  and  toys.  When  Isak  came  back  and  Inger 
saw  the  things,  she  turned  away  and  cried. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Isak. 

"  Nothing,"  answered  Inger.  "  Only  —  she'd 
have  been  just  a  year  now,  and  able  to  see  it  all." 

"  Ay,  but  you  know  how  it  was  with  her,"  said 
Isak,  for  comfort's  sake.  "  And  after  all,  it  may 
be  we'll  get  off  easier  than  we  thought.  I've  found 
out  where  Geissler  is  now." 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Inger  looked  up.  "  But  how's  that  going  to  help 
us?" 

"  I  don't  know.  .  .  ." 

Then  Isak  carried  his  corn  to  the  mill  and  had  it 
ground,  and  brought  back  flour.  Then  he  turned! 
woodman  again,  cutting  the  wood  to  be  ready  for 
next  winter.  His  life  was  spent  in  this  work  and 
that,  according  to  the  season;  from  the  fields  to  the 
woods,  and  back  to  the  fields  again.  He  had  worked 
on  the  place  for  six  years  now,  and  Inger  five;  all 
might  have  been  well,  if  it  were  only  allowed  to  last. 
But  it  was  not.  Inger  worked  at  her  loom  and 
tended  the  animals;  also,  she  was  often  to  be  heard 
singing  hymns,  but  it  was  a  pitiful  singing;  she  was 
like  a  bell  without  a  tongue. 

As  soon  as  the  roads  were  passable,  she  was  sent 
for  down  to  the  village  to  be  examined.  Isak  had 
to  stay  behind.  And  being  there  all  alone,  it  came 
into  his  mind  to  go  across  to  Sweden  and  find  out 
Geissler;  the  former  Lensmand  had  been  kind  to 
them,  and  might  perhaps  still  lend  a  helping  hand 
some  way  to  the  folks  at  Sellanraa.  But  when  Inger 
returned,  she  had  asked  about  things  herself,  and 
learned  something  of  what  her  sentence  was  likely  to 
be.  Strictly  speaking,  it  was  imprisonment  for  life, 
Paragraph  i.  But  .  .  .  After  all,  she  had  stood  up 
in  the  court  itself  and  simply  confessed.  The  two 
witnesses  from  the  village  had  looked  pityingly  at 
her,  and  the  judge  had  put  his  questions  kindly;  but 
for  all  that,  she  was  no  match  for  the  bright  intellects 

99 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

of  the  law.  Lawyers  are  great  men  to  simple  folk; 
they  can  quote  paragraph  this  and  section  that;  they 
have  learned  such  things  by  rote,  ready  to  bring  out 
at  any  moment.  Oh,  they  are  great  men  indeed. 
And  apart  from  all  this  knowledge,  they  are  not  al- 
ways devoid  of  sense;  sometimes  even  not  altogether 
heartless.  Inger  had  no  cause  to  complain  of  the 
court ;  she  made  no  mention  of  the  hare,  but  when  she 
tearfully  explained  that  she  could  not  be  so  cruel  to 
her  poor  deformed  child  as  to  let  it  live,  the  magis- 
trate nodded,  quietly  and  seriously. 

"  But,"  said  he,  "  think  of  yourself;  you  have  a 
hare-lip,  and  it  has  not  spoilt  your  life." 

"  No,  thanks  be  to  God,"  was  all  she  said.  She 
could  not  tell  them  of  all  she  had  suffered  in  secret 
as  a  child,  as  a  young  girl. 

But  the  magistrate  must  have  understood  some- 
thing of  what  it  meant;  he  himself  had  a  club-foot, 
and  could  not  dance.  "  As  to  the  sentence,"  he  said, 
"  I  hardly  know.  Really,  it  should  be  imprisonment 
for  life,  but  ...  I  can't  say,  perhaps  we  might  get 
it  commuted,  second  or  third  degree,  fifteen  to  twelve 
years,  or  twelve  to  nine.  There's  a  commission  sit- 
ting to  reform  the  criminal  code,  make  it  more  hu- 
mane, but  the  final  decision  won't  be  ready  yet. 
Anyhow,  we  must  hope  for  the  best,"  said  he. 

Inger  came  back  in  a  state  of  dull  resignation; 
they  had  not  found  it  necessary  to  keep  her  in  con- 
finement meantime.  Two  months  passed;  then  one 
evening,  when  Isak  came  back  from  fishing,  the  Lens- 
mand  and  his  new  assistant  had  been  to  Sellanraa. 

IOO 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Inger  was  cheerful,  and  welcomed  her  husband 
kindly,  praising  his  catch,  though  it  was  little  he  had 
brought  home. 

"What  I  was  going  to  say  —  has  any  one  been 
here?  "  he  asked. 

"  Any  one  been?     Why,  who  should  there  be?  " 

"  There's  fresh  footmarks  outside.  Men  with 
boots  on." 

"Why  —  there's  been  no  one  but  the  Lensmand 
and  one  other." 

"What  did  they  want?" 

"  You  know  that  without  asking." 

"  Did  they  come  to  fetch  you?  " 

"  Fetch  me?  No,  'twas  only  about  the  sentence. 
The  Lord  is  kind,  'tis  not  so  bad  as  I  feared." 

"  Ah,"  said  Isak  eagerly.  "Not  so  long, 
maybe?  " 

"  No.     Only  a  few  years." 

"  How  many  years?  " 

"  Why,  you  might  think  it  a  lot,  maybe.  But  I'm 
thankful  to  God  all  the  same." 

Inger  did  not  say  how  long  it  would  be.  Later 
that  evening  Isak  asked  when  they  would  be  coming 
to  fetch  her  away,  but  this  she  could  not  or  would 
not  tell.  She  had  grown  thoughtful  again,  and 
talked  of  what  was  to  come;  how  they  would  man- 
age she  could  not  think  —  but  she  supposed  they 
would  have  to  get  Oline  to  come.  And  Isak  had  no 
better  plan  to  offer. 

What  had  become  of  Oline,  by  the  way?  She  had 
not  been  up  this  year  as  she  used  to  do.  Was  she 

101 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

going  to  stay  away  for  ever,  now  that  she  had  upset 
everything  for  them?  The  working  season  passed, 
but  Oline  did  not  come  —  did  she  expect  them  to  go 
and  fetch  her  ?  She  would  come  loitering  up  of  her- 
self, no  doubt,  the  great  lump  of  blubber,  the  mon- 
ster. 

And  at  last  one  day  she  did.  Extraordinary  per- 
son —  it  was  as  nothing  whatever  had  occurred  to 
make  ill-feeling  between  them;  she  was  even  knit- 
ting a  pair  of  new  stockings  for  Eleseus,  she  said. 

"  Just  came  up  to  see  how  you  were  getting  on 
over  here,"  said  she.  And  it  turned  out  that  she 
had  brought  her  clothes  and  things  up  in  a  sack,  and 
left  in  the  woods  close  by,  ready  to  stay. 

That  evening  Inger  took  her  husband  aside  and 
said:  "  Didn't  you  say  something  about  seeking  out 
Geissler?  'Tis  in  the  slack  time  now." 

"  Ay,"  said  Isak.  "  Now  that  Oline  is  come,  I 
can  go  off  tomorrow  morning,  first  thing." 

Inger  was  grateful,  and  thanked  him.  "  And  take 
your  money  with  you,"  she  said  — "  all  you  have  in 
the  place." 

'  Why,  can't  you  keep  the  money  here?  " 

"  No,"  said  she. 

Inger  made  up  a  big  parcel  of  food  at  once,  and 
Isak  woke  while  it  was  yet  night,  and  got  ready  to 
start.     Inger  went  out  on  the  door-slab  to  see  him 
off;  she  did  not  cry  or  complain,  but  only  said: 
'  They  may  be  coming  for  me  now  any  day." 

'  You  don't  know  when?  " 

"  No,  I  can't  say.     And  I  don't  suppose  it  will  be 
1 02 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

just  yet,  but  anyhow.  ...  If  only  you  could  get 
hold  of  Geissler,  perhaps  he  might  be  able  to  say 
something." 

What  could  Geissler  do  to  help  them  now? 
Nothing.  But  Isak  went. 

Inger  —  oh,  she  knew,  no  doubt,  more  than  she 
had  been  willing  to  say.  It  might  be,  too,  that  she 
herself  had  sent  for  Oline.  When  Isak  came  from 
Sweden,  Inger  was  gone  and  Oline  was  there  with 
the  two  children. 

It  was  dark  news  for  a  homecoming.  Isak's  voice 
was  louder  than  usual  as  he  asked :  "  Is  she  gone  ?  " 

"  Ay,"  said  Oline. 

"What  day  was  it?" 

"  The  day  after  you  left."  And  Isak  knew  now 
that  Inger  had  got  him  out  of  the  way  on  purpose 
—  that  was  why  she  had  persuaded  him  to  take  the 
money  with  him.  Oh,  but  she  might  have  kept  a 
little  for  herself,  for  that  long  journey! 

But  the  children  could  think  of  nothing  else  but 
the  little  pig  Isak  had  brought  with  him.  It  was  all 
he  had  for  his  trouble ;  the  address  he  had  was  out  of 
date,  and  Geissler  was  no  longer  in  Sweden,  but  had 
returned  to  Norway  and  was  now  in  Trondhjem. 
As  for  the  pig,  Isak  had  carried  it  in  his  arms  all  the 
way,  feeding  it  with  milk  from  a  bottle,  and  sleeping 
with  it  on  his  breast  among  the  hills.  He  had  been 
looking  forward  to  Inger's  delight  when  she  saw  it ; 
now,  Eleseus  and  Sivert  played  with  it,  and  it  was  a 
joy  to  them.  And  Isak,  watching  them,  forgot  his 
trouble  for  the  moment.  Moreover,  Oline  had  a 

103 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

message  from  the  Lensmand;  the  State  had  at  last 
given  its  decision  in  the  matter  of  the  land  at  Sel- 
lanraa.  Isak  had  only  to  go  down  to  the  office  and 
pay  the  amount.  This  was  good  news,  and  served 
to  keep  him  from  the  worst  depth  of  despair.  Tired 
and  worn  out  as  he  was,  he  packed  up  some  food  in 
a  bag  and  set  off  for  the  village  at  once.  Maybe  he 
had  some  little  hope  of  seeing  Inger  once  again  be- 
fore she  left  there. 

But  he  was  disappointed.  Inger  was  gone  —  for 
eight  years.  Isak  felt  himself  in  a  mist  of  darkness 
and  emptiness;  heard  only  a  word  here  and  there  of 
all  the  Lensmand  said  —  a  pity  such  things  should 
happen  .  .  .  hoped  it  might  be  a  lesson  to  her  .  .  . 
reform  and  be  a  better  woman  after,  and  not  kill 
her  children  any  more! 

Lensmand  Heyerdahl  had  married  the  year  be- 
fore. His  wife  had  no  intention  of  ever  being  a 
mother  —  no  children  for  her,  thank  you !  And  she 
had  none. 

"  And  now,"  said  the  Lensmand,  "  this  business 
about  Sellanraa.  At  last  I  am  in  a  position  to  settle 
it  definitely.  The  Department  is  graciously  pleased 
to  approve  the  sale  of  the  land,  more  or  less  accord- 
ing to  the  terms  I  suggested." 

"  H'm,"  said  Isak. 

"  It  has  been  a  lengthy  business,  but  I  have  the 
satisfaction  of  knowing  that  my  endeavours  have  not 
been  altogether  fruitless.  The  terms  I  proposed 
have  been  agreed  to  almost  without  exception." 

104 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  Without  exception,"  said  Isak,  and  nodded. 

"Here  are  the  title-deeds.  You  can  have  the 
transfer  registered  at  the  first  session." 

"  Ay,"  said  Isak.  "  And  how  much  is  there  to 
pay?" 

"  Ten  Daler  a  year.  "  The  Department  has 
made  a  slight  alteration  here  —  ten  Daler  per  an- 
num instead  of  five.  You  have  no  objection  to  that, 
I  presume?  " 

"  As  long  as  I  can  manage  to  pay  .  .  ."  said  Isak. 

"  And  for  ten  years."  Isak  looked  up,  half 
frightened. 

"  Those  are  the  terms  —  the  Department  insists. 
Even  then,  it's  no  price  really  for  all  that  land, 
cleared  and  cultivated  as  it  is  now." 

Isak  had  the  ten  Daler  for  that  year  —  it  was  the 
money  he  had  got  for  his  loads  of  wood,  and  for  the 
cheeses  Inger  had  laid  by.  He  paid  the  amount, 
and  had  still  a  small  sum  left. 

"  It's  a  lucky  thing  for  you  the  Department  didn't 
get  to  hear  about  your  wife,"  said  the  Lensmand. 
"  Or  they  might  have  sold  to  some  one  else." 

"  Ay,"  said  Isak.  He  asked  about  Inger.  "  Is 
it  true  that  she's  gone  away  for  eight  years?  " 

"That  is  so.  And  can't  be  altered  —  the  law 
must  take  its  course.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  sen- 
tence is  extraordinarily  light.  There's  one  thing 
you  must  do  now  —  that  is,  to  set  up  clear  boundaries 
between  your  land  and  the  State's.  A  straight,  di- 
rect line,  following  the  marks  I  set  up  on  the  spot, 

105 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

and  entered  in  my  register  at  the  time.  The  timber 
cleared  from  the  boundary  line  becomes  your  prop- 
erty. I  will  come  up  some  time  and  have  a  look  at 
what  you  have  done." 

Isak  trudged  back  to  his  home. 


1 06 


Chapter  VIII 


TIME  flies?     Ay,  when  a  man  is  growing  old. 
Isak  was  not  old,  he  had  not  lost  his  vigour; 
the  years  seemed  long  to  him.     He  worked 
on  his  land,  and  let  his  iron  beard  grow  as  it  would. 

Now  and  again  the  monotony  of  the  wilderness 
was  broken  by  the  sight  of  a  passing  Lapp,  or  by 
something  happening  to  one  of  the  animals  on  the 
place,  then  all  would  be  as  before.  Once  there  came 
a  number  of  men  at  once;  they  rested  at  Sellanraa, 
and  had  some  food  and  a  dish  of  milk;  they  asked 
Isak  and  Oline  about  the  path  across  the  hills;  they 
were  marking  out  the  telegraph  line,  they  said.  And 
once  came  Geissler  —  Geissler  himself,  and  no  other. 
There  he  came,  free  and  easy  as  ever,  walking  up 
from  the  village,  two  men  with  him,  carrying  mining 
tools,  pick  and  spade. 

Oh,  that  Geissler !  Unchanged,  the  same  as  ever ; 
meeting  and  greeting  as  if  nothing  had  happened, 
talked  to  the  children,  went  into  the  house  and  came 
out  again,  looked  over  the  ground,  opened  the  doors 
of  cowshed  and  hayloft  and  looked  in.  "  Excel- 
lent! "  said  he.  "  Isak,  have  you  still  got  those  bits 
of  stone?" 

"  Bits  of  stone?  "  said  Isak,  wondering. 
107 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  Little  heavy  lumps  of  stone  I  saw  the  boy  play- 
ing with  when  I  was  here  once  before." 

The  stones  were  out  in  the  larder,  serving  as 
weights  for  so  many  mouse-traps;  Isak  brought  them 
in.  Geissler  and  the  two  men  examined  them,  talk- 
ing together,  tapped  them  here  and  there,  weighed 
them  in  the  hand.  "  Copper,"  they  said. 

"  Could  you  go  up  with  us  and  show  where  you 
found  them?  "  asked  Geissler. 

They  all  went  up  together;  it  was  not  far  to  the 
place  where  Isak  had  found  the  stones,  but  they 
stayed  up  in  the  hills  for  a  couple  of  days,  looking 
for  veins  of  metal,  and  firing  charges  here  and  there. 
They  came  down  to  Sellanraa  with  two  bags  filled 
with  heavy  lumps  of  stone. 

Isak  had  meanwhile  had  a  talk  with  Geissler,  and 
told  him  everything  as  to  his  own  position:  about 
the  purchase  of  the  land,  which  had  come  to  a  hun- 
dred Daler  instead  of  fifty. 

"  That's  a  trifle,"  said  Geissler  easily.  "  You've 
thousands,  like  as  not,  on  your  part  of  the  hills." 

"  Hoi  "said  Isak. 

"  But  you'd  better  get  those  title-deeds  entered  in 
the  register  as  soon  as  ever  you  can." 

"  Ay." 

'  Then  the  State  can't  come  any  nonsense  about  it 
after,  you  understand." 

Isak  understood.  "  'Tis  worst  about  Inger,"  he 
said. 

"  Ay,"   said  Geissler,   and   remained  thoughtful 
108 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

longer  than  was  usual  with  him.  "  Might  get  the 
case  brought  up  again.  Set  out  the  whole  thing 
properly;  very  likely  get  the  sentence  reduced  a  bit. 
Or  we  could  put  in  an  application  for  a  pardon,  and 
that  would  probably  come  to  the  same  thing  in  the 
end." 

"  Why,  if  as  that  could  be  done.  .  .  ." 

"  But  it  wouldn't  do  to  try  for  a  pardon  at  once. 
Have  to  wait  a  bit.  What  was  I  going  to  say  .  .  . 
you've  been  taking  things  down  to  my  wife  —  meat 
and  cheese  and  things  —  what?" 

"  Why,  as  to  that,  Lensmand  paid  for  all  that  be- 
fore." 

"Did  I,  though?" 

"  And  helped  us  kindly  in  many  a  way." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  said  Geissler  shortly.  "  Here 
—  take  this."  And  he  took  out  some  Daler  notes. 

Geissler  was  not  the  man  to  take  things  for  noth- 
ing, that  was  plain.  And  he  seemed  to  have  plenty 
of  money  about  him,  from  the  way  his  pocket  bulged. 
Heaven  only  knew  if  he  really  had  money  or  not. 

"  But  she  writes  all's  well  and  getting  on,"  said 
Isak,  coming  back  to  his  one  thought. 

"What?  — Oh,  your  wife!" 

"  Ay.  And  since  the  girl  was  born  —  she's  had 
a  girl  child,  born  while  she  was  there.  A  fine  little 
one." 

"Excellent!" 

"  Ay,  and  now  they're  all  as  kind  as  can  be,  and 
help  her  every  way,  she  says." 

109 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  Look  here,"  said  Geissler,  "  I'm  going  to  send 
these  bits  of  stone  in  to  some  mining  experts,  and 
find  out  what's  in  them.  If  there's  a  decent  percent- 
age of  copper,  you'll  be  a  rich  man." 

"  H'm,"  said  Isak.  "  And  how  long  do  you  think 
before  we  could  apply  for  a  pardon?  " 

"  Well,  not  so  very  long,  perhaps.     I'll  write  the 
thing  for  you.     I'll  be  back  here  again  soon.     What 
was  it  you  said  —  your  wife  has  had  a  child  since  she 
left  here?" 
"  Yes." 

"  Then  they  took  her  away  while  she  was  expect- 
ing it.     That's  a  thing  they've  no  right  to  do." 
"Ho!" 

"  Anyhow,  it's  one  more  reason  for  letting  her  out 
earlier." 

"  Ay,  if  that  could  be  .  .  ."  said  Isak  gratefully. 
Isak  knew  nothing  of  the  many  lengthy  writings 
backward  and  forward  between  the  different  author- 
ities concerning  the  woman  who  was  expecting  a 
child.  The  local  authorities  had  let  her  go  free 
while  the  matter  was  pending,  for  two  reasons:  in 
the  first  place,  they  had  no  lock-up  in  the  village 
where  they  could  keep  her,  and,  in  the  second  place, 
they  wished  to  be  as  lenient  as  possible.  The  con- 
sequence was  something  they  could  not  have  fore- 
seen. Later,  when  they  had  sent  to  fetch  her  away, 
no  one  had  inquired  about  her  condition,  and  she 
herself  had  said  nothing  of  it.  Possibly  she  had  con- 
cealed the  matter  on  purpose,  in  order  to  have  a 
child  with  her  during  the  years  of  imprisonment;  if 

IIO 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

she  behaved  well,  she  would  no  doubt  be  allowed  to 
see  it  now  and  again.  Or  perhaps  she  had  been 
merely  indifferent,  and  had  gone  off  carelessly,  de- 
spite her  state.  .  .  . 

Isak  worked  and  toiled,  dug  ditches  and  broke 
new  ground,  set  up  his  boundary  lines  between  his 
land  and  the  State's,  and  gained  another  season's 
stock  of  timber.  But  now  that  Inger  was  no  longer 
there  to  wonder  at  his  doings,  he  worked  more  from 
habit  than  for  any  joy  in  what  he  did.  And  he  had 
let  two  sessions  pass  without  having  his  title-deeds 
registered,  caring  little  about  it;  at  last,  that  autumn, 
he  had  pulled  himself  together  and  got  it  done. 
Things  were  not  as  they  should  be  with  Isak  now. 
Quiet  and  patient  as  ever  —  yes,  but  now  it  was  be- 
cause he  did  not  care.  He  got  out  hides  because  it 
had  to  be  done  —  goatskins  and  calfskins  —  steeped 
them  in  the  river,  laid  them  in  bark,  and  tanned  them 
after  a  fashion  ready  for  shoes.  In  the  winter  — 
at  the  very  first  threshing  —  he  set  aside  his  seed 
corn  for  the  next  spring,  in  order  to  have  it  done; 
best  to  have  things  done  and  done  with;  he  was  a 
methodical  man.  But  it  was  a  grey  and  lonely  life ; 
eyah,  Herregud!  a  man  without  a  wife  again,  and  all 
the  rest.  .  .  . 

What  pleasure  was  there  now  in  sitting  at  home 
Sundays,  cleanly  washed,  with  a  neat  red  shirt  on, 
when  there  was  no  one  to  be  clean  and  neat  for! 
Sundays  were  the  longest  days  of  all,  days  when  he 
was  forced  to  idleness  and  weary  thoughts;  nothing 
to  do  but  wander  about  over  the  place,  counting  up 

in 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

all  that  should  have  been  done.  He  always  took  the 
children  with  him,  always  carried  one  on  his  arm. 
It  was  a  distraction  to  hear  their  chatter,  and  an- 
swer their  questions  of  everything. 

He  kept  old  Oline  because  there  was  no  one  else 
he  could  get.  And  Oline  was,  after  all,  of  use  in  a 
way.  Carding  and  spinning,  knitting  stockings  and 
mittens,  and  making  cheese  —  she  could  do  all  these 
things,  but  she  lacked  Inger's  happy  touch,  and  had 
no  heart  in  her  work;  nothing  of  all  she  handled 
was  her  own.  There  was  a  thing  Isak  had  bought 
once  at  the  village  store,  a  china  pot  with  a  dog's 
head  on  the  lid.  It  was  a  sort  of  tobacco  box,  really, 
and  stood  on  a  shelf.  Oline  took  off  the  lid  and 
dropped  it  on  the  floor.  Inger  had  left  behind  some 
cuttings  of  fuchsia,  under  glass.  Oline  took  the 
glass  off  and,  putting  it  back,  pressed  it  down  hard 
and  maliciously ;  next  day,  all  the  cuttings  were  dead. 
It  was  not  so  easy  for  Isak  to  bear  with  such  things ; 
he  looked  displeased,  and  showed  it,  and,  as  there 
was  nothing  swanlike  and  gentle  about  Isak,  it  may 
well  be  that  he  showed  it  plainly.  Oline  cared  little 
for  looks;  soft-spoken  as  ever,  she  only  said: 
11  Now,  could  I  help  it?" 

"  That  I  can't  say,"  answered  Isak.  "  But  you 
might  have  left  the  things  alone." 

"  I'll  not  touch  her  flowers  again,"  said  Oline. 
But  the  flowers  were  already  dead. 

Again,  how  could  it  be  that  the  Lapps  came  up  to 
Sellanraa  so  frequently  of  late?  Os- Anders,  for  in- 
stance, had  no  business  there  at  all,  he  should  have 

112 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

passed  on  his  way.  Twice  in  one  summer  he  came 
across  the  hills,  and  Os-Anders,  it  should  be  remem- 
bered, had  no  reindeer  to  look  to,  but  lived  by  beg- 
ging and  quartering  himself  on  other  Lapps.  As 
soon  as  he  came  up  to  the  place,  Oline  left  her  work 
and  fell  to  chatting  with  him  about  people  in  the 
village,  and,  when  he  left,  his  sack  was  heavy  with 
no  end  of  things.  Isak  put  up  with  it  for  two  years, 
saying  nothing. 

Then  Oline  wanted  new  shoes  again,  and  he  could 
be  silent  no  longer.  It  was  in  the  autumn,  and  Oline 
wore  shoes  every  day,  instead  of  going  in  wooden 
pattens  or  rough  hide. 

"  Looks  like  being  fine  today,"  said  Isak. 
"  H'm."  That  was  how  he  began. 

"  Ay,"  said  Oline. 

"  Those  cheeses,  Eleseus,"  went  on  Isak  again, 
"  wasn't  it  ten  you  counted  on  the  shelf  this  morn- 
ing?" 

"  Ay,"  said  Eleseus. 

"  Well,  there's  but  nine  there  now." 

Eleseus  counted  again,  and  thought  for  a  moment 
inside  his  little  head;  then  he  said:  "  Yes,  but  then 
Os-Anders  had  one  to  take  away;  that  makes  ten." 

There  was  silence  for  quite  a  while  after  that. 
Then  little  Sivert  must  try  to  count  as  well,  and  says 
after  his  brother:  "  That  makes  ten." 

Silence  again.  At  last  Oline  felt  she  must  say 
something. 

"  Ay,  I  did  give  him  a  tiny  one,  that's  true.  I 
didn't  think  that  could  do  any  harm.  But  they  chil- 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

dren,  they're  no  sooner  able  to  talk  than  they  show 
what's  in  them.  And  who  they  take  after's  more 
than  I  can  think  or  guess.  For  'tis  not  your  way, 
Isak,  that  I  do  know." 

The  hint  was  too  plain  to  pass  unchecked.  "  The 
children  are  well  enough,"  said  Isak  shortly.  "  But 
I'd  like  to  know  what  good  Os-Anders  has  ever  done 
to  me  and  mine." 

"What  good?" 

"  Ay,  that's  what  I  said." 

11  What  good  Os-Anders  ...   ?  " 

"  Ay,  since  I'm  to  give  him  cheeses  in  return." 

Oline  has  had  time  to  think,  and  has  her  answer 
ready  now. 

'  Well,  now,  I  wouldn't  have  thought  it  of  you, 
Isak,  that  I  wouldn't.  Was  it  me,  pray,  that  first 
began  with  Os-Anders?  I  wish  I  may  never  move 
alive  from  this  spot  if  I  ever  so  much  as  spoke  his 
name." 

Brilliant  success  for  Oline.  Isak  has  to  give  in, 
as  he  has  done  many  a  time  before. 

But  Oline  had  more  to  say.  "  And  if  you  mean 
I'm  to  go  here  clean  barefoot,  with  the  winter  com- 
ing on  and  all,  and  never  own  the  like  of  a  pair  of 
shoes,  why,  you'll  please  to  say  so.  I  said  a  word 
of  it  three  and  four  weeks  gone,  that  I  needed  shoes, 
but  never  sign  of  a  shoe  to  this  day,  and  here  I  am." 

Said  Isak:  'What's  wrong  with  your  pattens, 
then,  that  you  can't  use  them?  " 

'  What's  wrong  with  them?  "  repeats  Oline,  all 
unprepared. 

114 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  Ay,  that's  what  I'd  like  to  know." 

"With  my  pattens?" 

"  Ay." 

"  Well  .  .  .  and  me  carding  and  spinning,  and 
tending  cattle  and  sheep  and  all,  looking  after  chil- 
dren here  —  have  you  nothing  to  say  to  that?  I'd 
like  to  know;  that  wife  of  yours  that's  in  prison  for 
her  deeds,  did  you  let  her  go  barefoot  in  the  snow?  " 

"  She  wore  her  pattens,"  said  Isak.  "  And  for 
going  to  church  and  visiting  and  the  like,  why,  rough 
hide  was  good  enough  for  her." 

"  Ay,  and  all  the  finer  for  it,  no  doubt." 

"  Ay,  that  she  was.  And  when  she  did  wear  her 
hide  shoes  in  summer,  she  did  but  stuff  a  wisp  of 
grass  in  them,  and  never  no  more.  But  you  —  you 
must  wear  stockings  in  your  shoes  all  the  year 
round." 

Said  Oline:  "  As  for  that,  I'll  wear  out  my  pat- 
tens in  time,  no  doubt.  I'd  no  thought  there  was 
any  such  haste  to  wear  out  good  pattens  all  at  once." 
She  spake  softly  and  gently,  but  with  half-closed 
eyes,  the  same  sly  Oline  as  ever.  "  And  as  for 
Inger,"  said  she,  "  the  changeling,  as  we  called  her, 
she  went  about  with  children  of  mine  and  learned 
both  this  and  that,  for  years  she  did.  And  this  is 
what  we  get  for  it.  Because  I've  a  daughter  that 
lives  in  Bergen  and  wears  a  hat,  I  suppose  that's 
what  Inger  must  be  gone  away  south  for;  gone  to 
Trondhjem  to  buy  a  hat,  he  he !  " 

Isak  got  up  to  leave  the  room.  But  Oline  had 
opened  her  heart  now,  unlocked  the  store  of  black- 

"5 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

ness  within;  ay,  she  gave  out  rays  of  darkness,  did 
Oline.  Thank  Heaven,  none  of  her  children  had 
their  faces  slit  like  a  fire-breathing  dragon,  so  to 
speak;  but  they  were  none  the  worse  for  that,  maybe. 
No,  'twasn't  every  one  was  so  quick  and  handy  at  get- 
ting rid  of  the  young  they  bore  —  strangling  them 
in  a  twinkling.  .  .  . 

"  Mind  what  you're  saying,"  shouted  Isak.  And 
to  make  his  meaning  perfectly  clear,  he  added: 
"  You  cursed  old  hag !  " 

But  Oline  was  not  going  to  mind  what  she  was 
saying;  not  in  the  least,  he  he!  She  turned  up  her 
eyes  to  heaven  and  hinted  that  a  hare-lip  might  be 
this  or  that,  but  some  folk  seemed  to  carry  it  too 
far,  he  he ! 

Isak  may  well  have  been  glad  to  get  safely  out  of 
the  house  at  last.  And  what  could  he  do  but  get 
Oline  the  shoes?  A  tiller  of  earth  in  the  wilds;  no 
longer  even  something  of  a  god,  that  he  could  say  to 
his  servant,  "  Go !  "  He  was  helpless  without 
Oline ;  whatever  she  did  or  said,  she  had  nothing  to 
fear,  and  she  knew  it. 

The  nights  are  colder  now,  with  a  full  moon ;  the 
marshlands  harden  till  they  can  almost  bear,  but 
thawing  again  when  the  sun  comes  out,  to  an  impas- 
sable swamp  once  more.  Isak  goes  down  to  the 
village  one  cold  night,  to  order  shoes  for  Oline.  He 
takes  a  couple  of  cheeses  with  him,  for  Fru  Geissler. 

Hal^-way  down  to  the  village  a  new  settler  has 
appeared.  A  well-to-do  man,  no  doubt,  since  he  had 
called  in  folk  from  the  village  to  build  his  house, 

116 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

and  hired  men  to  plough  up  a  patch  of  sandy  moor- 
land for  potatoes;  he  himself  did  little  or  nothing. 
The  new  man  was  Brede  Olsen,  Lensmand's  assist- 
ant, a  man  to  go  to  when  the  doctor  had  to  be 
fetched,  or  a  pig  to  be  killed.  He  was  not  yet 
thirty,  but  had  four  children  to  look  after,  not  to 
speak  of  his  wife,  who  was  as  good  as  a  child  her- 
self. Oh,  Brede  was  not  so  well  off,  perhaps,  after 
all;  'twas  no  great  money  he  could  earn  running 
hither  and  thither  on  all  odd  businesses,  and  collect- 
ing taxes  from  people  that  would  not  pay.  So  now 
he  was  trying  a  new  venture  on  the  soil.  He  had 
raised  a  loan  at  the  bank  to  start  house  in  the  wilds. 
Breidablik,  he  called  the  place ;  and  it  was  Lensmand 
Heyerdahl's  lady  that  had  found  that  splendid  name. 

Isak  hurries  past  the  house,  not  wasting  time  on 
looking  in,  but  he  can  see  through  the  window  that 
all  the  children  are  up  already,  early  as  it  is.  Isak 
has  no  time  to  lose,  if  he  is  to  be  back  as  far  as  this 
on  the  homeward  journey  next  night,  while  the  roads 
are  hard.  A  man  living  in  the  wilds  has  much  to 
think  of,  to  reckon  out  and  fit  in  as  best  can  be.  It 
is  not  the  busiest  time  for  him  just  now,  but  he  is 
anxious  about  the  children,  left  all  alone  with  Oline. 

He  thinks,  as  he  walks,  of  the  first  time  he  had 
come  that  way.  Time  has  passed,  the  two  last  years 
had  been  long;  there  had  been  much  that  was  good 
at  Sellanraa,  and  a  deal  that  was  not  —  eyah,  Her- 
regud!  And  now  here  was  another  man  clearing 
ground  in  the  wilds.  Isak  knew  the  place  well;  it 
was  one  of  the  kindlier  spots  he  had  noted  himself 

117 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

on  his  way  up,  but  he  had  gone  on  farther.  It  was 
nearer  the  village,  certainly,  but  the  timber  was  not 
so  good ;  the  ground  was  less  hilly,  but  a  poorer  soil ; 
easy  to  work  on  the  surface,  but  hard  to  deal  with 
farther  down.  That  fellow  Brede  would  find  it  took 
more  than  a  mere  turning  over  of  the  soil  to  made 
a  field  that  would  bear.  And  why  hadn't  he  built 
out  a  shed  from  the  end  of  the  hay-loft  for  carts 
and  implements?  Isak  noticed  that  a  cart  had  been 
left  standing  out  in  the  yard,  uncovered,  in  the 
open. 

He  got  through  his  business  with  the  shoemaker, 
and,  Fru  Geissler  having  left  the  place,  he  sold  his 
cheeses  to  the  man  at  the  store.  In  the  evening,  he 
starts  out  for  home.  The  frost  is  getting  harder 
now,  and  it  is  good,  firm  going,  but  Isak  trudges 
heavily  for  all  that.  Who  could  say  when  Geissler 
would  be  back,  now  that  his  wife  had  gone;  maybe 
he  would  not  be  coming  at  all?  Inger  was  far  away, 
and  time  was  getting  on.  .  .  . 

He  does  not  look  in  at  Brede's  on  the  way  back; 
on  the  contrary,  he  goes  a  long  way  round,  keeping 
away  from  the  place.  He  does  not  care  to  stop  and 
talk  to  folk,  only  trudge  on.  Brede's  cart  is  still 
out  in  the  open  —  does  he  mean  to  leave  it  there  ? 
Well,  'tis  his  own  affair.  Isak  himself  had  a  cart 
of  his  own  now,  and  a  shed  to  house  it,  but  none  the 
happier  for  that.  His  home  is  but  half  a  thing;  it 
had  been  a  home  once,  but  now  only  half  a  thing. 

It  is  full  day  by  the  time  he  gets  within  sight  of  his 
own  place  up  on  the  hillside,  and  it  cheers  him  some- 

118 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

what,  weary  and  exhausted  as  he  is  after  forty-eight 
hours  on  the  road.  The  house  and  buildings,  there 
they  stand,  smoke  curling  up  from  the  chimney ;  both 
the  little  ones  are  out,  and  come  down  to  meet  him 
as  he  appears.  He  goes  into  the  house,  and  finds 
a  couple  of  Lapps  sitting  down.  Oline  starts  up  in 
surprise:  "What,  you  back  already!"  She  is 
making  coffee  on  the  stove.  Coffee?  Coffee! 

Isak  has  noticed  the  same  thing  before.  When 
Os-Anders  or  any  of  the  other  Lapps  have  been 
there,  Oline  makes  coffee  in  Inger's  little  pot  for  a 
long  time  after.  She  does  it  while  Isak  is  out  in  the 
woods  or  in  the  fields,  and  when  he  comes  in  unex- 
pectedly and  sees  it,  she  says  nothing.  But  he  knows 
that  he  is  the  poorer  by  a  cheese  or  a  bundle  of 
wool  each  time.  And  it  is  to  his  credit  that  he  does 
not  pick  up  Oline  in  his  fingers  and  crush  her  to 
pieces  for  her  meanness.  Altogether,  Isak  is  trying 
hard  indeed  to  make  himself  a  better  man,  better 
and  better,  whatever  may  be  his  idea,  whether  it  be 
for  the  sake  of  peace  in  the  house,  or  in  some  hope 
that  the  Lord  may  give  him  back  his  Inger  the 
sooner.  He  is  something  given  to  superstition  and 
a  pondering  upon  things ;  even  his  rustic  wariness  is 
innocent  in  its  way.  Early  that  autumn  he  found 
the  turf  on  the  roof  of  the  stable  was  beginning  to 
slip  down  inside.  Isak  chewed  at  his  beard  for  a 
while,  then,  smiling  like  a  man  who  understands  a 
jest,  he  laid  some  poles  across  to  keep  it  up.  Not  a 
bitter  word  did  he  say.  And  another  thing :  the  shed 
where  he  kept  his  store  of  provisions  was  simply 

119 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

built  on  high  stone  feet  at  the  corners,  with  nothing 
between.  After  a  while,  little  birds  began  to  find 
their  way  in  through  the  big  gaps  in  the  wall,  and 
stayed  fluttering  about  inside,  unable  to  get  out. 
Oline  complained  that  they  picked  at  the  food  and 
spoiled  the  meat,  and  made  a  nasty  mess  about  the 
place.  Isak  said:  "Ay,  'tis  a  pity  small  birds 
should  come  in  and  not  be  able  to  get  out  again." 
And  in  the  thick  of  a  busy  season  he  turned  stone- 
mason and  filled  up  the  gaps  in  the  wall. 

Heaven  knows  what  was  in  his  mind  that  he  took 
things  so ;  whether  maybe  he  fancied  Inger  might  be 
given  back  to  him  the  sooner  for  his  gentleness. 


120 


Chapter  IX 


THE  years  pass  by. 
Once  more  there  came  visitors  to  Sellanraa ; 
an  engineer,  with  a  foreman  and  a  couple 
of  workmen,  marking  out  telegraph  lines  again  over 
the  hills.     By  the  route  they  were  taking  now,  the 
line  would  be  carried  a  little  above  the  house,  and  a 
straight  road  cut  through  the  forest.     No  harm  in 
that.     It  would  make   the   place   less   desolate,    a 
glimpse  of  the  world  would  make  it  brighter. 

"  This  place,"  said  the  engineer,  "  will  be  just 
about  midway  between  two  lines  through  the  valleys 
on  either  side.  They'll  very  likely  ask  you  to  take 
on  the  job  of  linesman  for  both." 

"Ho!  "said  Isak. 

"  It  will  be  twenty-five  Daler  a  year  in  your 
pocket." 

"  H'm,"  said  Isak.  "  And  what  am  I  to  do  for 
that?" 

"  Keep  the  line  in  repair,  mend  the  wires  when 
necessary,  clear  away  forest  growth  on  the  route  as 
it  comes  up.  They'll  set  up  a  little  machine  thing 
in  the  house  here,  to  hang  on  the  wall,  that'll  tell 
you  when  you're  wanted.  And  when  it  does,  you 
must  leave  whatever  you're  doing  and  go." 

Isak  thought  it  over.  "  I  could  do  it  all  right  in 
winter,"  he  said. 

121 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  That's  no  good.  It  would  have  to  be  for  the 
whole  year,  summer  and  winter  alike." 

"  Can't  be  done,"  said  Isak.  "  Spring  and  sum- 
mer and  autumn  I've  my  work  on  the  land,  and  no 
time  for  other  things." 

The  engineer  looked  at  him  for  quite  a  while,  and 
then  put  an  astonishing  question,  as  follows:  "  Can 
you  make  more  money  that  way?  " 

"  Make  more  money?  "  said  Isak. 

"  Can  you  earn  more  money  in  a  day  by  working 
on  the  land  than  you  could  by  working  for  us?  " 

"  Why,  as  to  that,  I  can't  say,"  answered  Isak. 
"  It's  just  this  way,  you  see  — 'tis  the  land  I'm  here 
for.  I've  many  souls  and  more  beasts  to  keep  alive 
—  and  'tis  the  land  that  keeps  us.  'Tis  our  living." 

"  If  you  won't,  I  can  find  some  one  else,"  said  the 
engineer. 

But  Isak  only  seemed  rather  relieved  at  the  threat. 
He  did  not  like  to  disoblige  the  great  man,  and  tried 
to  explain.  "  'Tis  this  way,"  he  said.  "  I've  a 
horse  and  five  cows,  besides  the  bull.  I've  twenty 
sheep  and  sixteen  goats.  The  beasts,  they  give  us 
food  and  wool  and  hide;  we  must  give  them  food." 

"  Yes,  yes,  of  course,"  said  the  other  shortly. 

"  Well,  and  so  I  say,  how  am  I  to  feed  them  when 
I've  to  run  away  all  times  in  the  busy  season,  to  work 
on  the  telegraph  line?" 

"  Say  no  more  about  it,"  said  the  engineer.  "  I'll 
get  the  man  down  below  you,  Brede  Olsen;  he'll  be 
glad  to  take  it."  He  turned  to  his  men  with  a  brief 
word:  "  Now,  lads,  we'll  be  getting  on." 

122 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Now  Oline  had  heard  from  the  way  Isak  spoke 
that  he  was  stiff-necked  and  unreasonable  in  his  mind, 
and  she  would  make  the  most  of  it. 

"  What  was  that  you  said,  Isak?  Sixteen  goats? 
There's  no  more  than  fifteen,"  said  she. 

Isak  looked  at  her,  and  Oline  looked  at  him  again, 
straight  in  the  face. 

"  Not  sixteen  goats?  "  said  he. 

"  No,"  said  she,  looking  helplessly  towards  the 
strangers,  as  if  to  say  how  unreasonable  he  was. 

"  Ho !  "  said  Isak  softly.  He  drew  a  tuft  of  his 
beard  between  his  teeth  and  stood  chewing  it. 

The  engineer  and  his  men  went  on  their  way. 

Now,  if  Isak  had  wanted  to  show  his  displeasure 
with  Oline  and  maybe  thrash  her  for  her  doings,  here 
was  his  chance  —  a  Heaven-sent  chance  to  do  that 
thing.  They  were  alone  in  the  house ;  the  children 
had  gone  after  the  men  when  they  went.  Isak  stood 
there  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  and  Oline  was  sit- 
ting by  the  stove.  Isak  cleared  his  throat  once  or 
twice,  just  to  show  that  he  was  ready  to  say  some- 
thing if  he  pleased.  But  he  said  nothing.  That  was 
his  strength  of  soul.  What,  did  he  not  know  the 
number  of  his  goats  as  he  knew  the  fingers  on  his 
hands  —  was  the  woman  mad?  Could  one  of  the 
beasts  be  missing,  when  he  knew  every  one  of  them 
personally  and  talked  to  them  every  day  —  his  goats 
that  were  sixteen  in  number?  Oline  must  have 
traded  away  one  of  them  the  day  before,  when  the 
woman  from  Breidablik  had  come  up  to  look  at  the 
place.  "  H'm,"  said  Isak,  and  this  time  words  were 

123 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

on  the  very  tip  of  his  tongue.  What  was  it  Oline 
had  done?  Not  exactly  murder,  perhaps,  but  some- 
thing not  far  from  it.  He  could  speak  in  deadly 
earnest  of  that  sixteenth  goat. 

But  he  could  not  stand  there  for  ever,  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  room,  saying  nothing.  "  H'm,"  he  said. 
"  Ho !  So  there's  but  fifteen  goats  there  now,  you 
say?" 

"  That's  all  I  make  it,"  answered  Oline  gently. 
"  But  you'd  better  count  for  yourself  and  see." 

Now  was  his  time  —  he  could  do  it  now :  reach  out 
with  his  hands  and  alter  the  shape  of  Oline  consid- 
erably, with  but  one  good  grip.  He  could  do  it. 
He  did  not  do  it,  but  said  boldly,  making  for  the 
door:  "  I'll  say  no  more  just  now."  And  he  went 
out,  as  if  plainly  showing  that,  next  time,  he  would 
have  proper  words  to  say,  never  fear. 

"  Eleseus!  "  he  called  out. 

Where  was  Eleseus,  where  were  the  children? 
Their  father  had  something  to  ask  them;  they  were 
big  fellows  now,  with  their  eyes  about  them.  He 
found  them  under  the  floor  of  the  barn;  they  had 
crept  in  as  far  as  they  could,  hiding  away  invisibly, 
but  betraying  themselves  by  an  anxious  whispering. 
Out  they  crept  now  like  two  sinners. 

The  fact  of  the  matter  was  that  Eleseus  had  found 
a  stump  of  coloured  pencil  the  engineer  had  left  be- 
hind, and  started  to  run  after  him  and  give  it  back, 
but  the  big  men  with  their  long  strides  were  already 
far  up  in  the  forest.  Eleseus  stopped.  The  idea 
occurred  to  him  that  he  might  keep  the  pencil  —  if 

124 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

only  he  could !  He  hunted  out  little  Sivert,  so  that 
they  might  at  least  be  two  to  share  the  guilt,  and  the 
pair  of  them  had  crept  in  under  the  floor  with  their 
find.  Oh,  that  stump  of  pencil  —  it  was  an  event  in 
their  lives,  a  wonder!  They  found  shavings  and 
covered  them  all  over  with  signs;  the  pencil,  they 
discovered,  made  blue  marks  with  one  end  and  red 
with  the  other,  and  they  took  it  in  turns  to  use. 
When  their  father  called  out  so  loudly  and  insistenly, 
Eleseus  whispered:  "They've  come  back  for  the 
pencil!"  All  their  joy  was  dashed  in  a  moment, 
swept  out  of  their  minds  at  a  touch,  and  their  little 
hearts  began  beating  and  thumping  terribly.  The 
brothers  crept  forth.  Eleseus  held  out  the  pencil  at 
arm's  length;  here  it  was,  they  had  not  broken  it; 
only  wished  they  had  never  seen  the  thing.  ' 

No  engineer  was  to  be  seen.  Their  hearts  settled 
to  a  quieter  beat;  it  was  heavenly  to  be  rid  of  that 
dreadful  tension. 

"  There  was  a  woman  here  yesterday,"  said  their 
father. 

"  Yes." 

"  The  woman  from  the  place  down  below.  Did 
you  see  her  go?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Had  she  a  goat  with  her?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  boys.     "  A  goat?  " 

"  Didn't  she  have  a  goat  with  her  when  she  left?  " 

"No.     What  goat?" 

Isak  wondered  and  wondered.  In  the  evening 
when  the  animals  came  home,  he  counted  the  goats 

125 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

once  over  —  there  were  sixteen.  He  counted  them 
once  more,  counted  them  five  times.  There  were 
sixteen.  None  missing. 

Isak  breathed  again.  But  what  did  it  all  mean? 
Oline,  miserable  creature,  couldn't  she  count  as  far 
as  sixteen?  He  asked  her  angrily:  "What's  all 
this  nonsense?  there  are  sixteen  goats." 

"  Are  there  sixteen?  "  she  asked  innocently. 

"  Ay." 

"  Ay,  well,  then." 

"  A  nice  one  to  count,  you  are." 

Oline  answered  quietly,  in  an  injured  tone,  "  Since 
all  the  goats  are  there,  why,  then,  thank  Heaven, 
you  can't  say  Oline's  been  eating  them  up.  And  well 
for  her,  poor  thing." 

Oline  had  taken  him  in  completely  with  her  trick- 
ery; he  was  content,  imagining  all  was  well.  It  did 
not  occur  to  him,  for  instance,  to  count  the  sheep. 
He  did  not  trouble  about  further  counting  of  the 
stock  at  all.  After  all,  Oline  was  not  as  bad  as  she 
might  have  been;  she  kept  house  for  him  after  a 
fashion,  and  looked  to  his  cattle;  she  was  merely  a 
fool,  and  that  was  worst  for  herself.  Let  her  stay, 
let  her  live  —  she  was  not  worth  troubling  about. 
But  it  was  a  grey  and  joyless  thing  to  be  Isak,  as  life 
was  now. 

Years  had  passed.  Grass  had  grown  on  the  roof 
of  the  house,  even  the  roof  of  the  barn,  which  was 
some  years  younger,  was  green.  The  wild  mouse, 
native  of  the  woods,  had  long  since  found  way  into 
the  storehouse.  Tits  and  all  manner  of  little  birds 

126 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

swarmed  about  the  place ;  there  were  more  birds  up 
on  the  hillside ;  even  the  crows  had  come.  And  most 
wonderful  of  all,  the  summer  before,  seagulls  had  ap- 
peared, seagulls  coming  all  the  way  up  from  the  coast 
to  settle  on  the  fields  there  in  the  wilderness.  Isak's 
farm  was  known  far  and  wide  to  all  wild  creatures. 
And  what  of  Eleseus  and  little  Sivert  when  they  saw 
the  gulls?  Oh,  'twas  some  strange  birds  from  ever 
so  far  away;  not  so  many  of  them,  just  six  white 
birds,  all  exactly  alike,  waddling  this  way  and  that 
about  the  fields,  and  pecking  at  the  grass  now  and 
then. 

"  Father,  what  have  they  come  for?  "  asked  the 
boys. 

"  There's  foul  weather  coming  out  at  sea,"  said 
their  father.  Oh,  a  grand  and  mysterious  thing  to 
see  those  gulls ! 

And  Isak  taught  his  sons  many  other  things  good 
and  useful  to  know.  They  were  of  an  age  to  go  to 
school,  but  the  school  was  many  miles  away  down  in 
the  village,  out  of  reach.  Isak  had  himself  taught 
the  boys  their  A  B  C  on  Sundays,  but  'twas  not  for 
him,  not  for  this  born  tiller  of  the  soil,  to  give  them 
any  manner  of  higher  education;  the  Catechism  and 
Bible  history  lay  quietly  on  the  shelf  with  the  cheeses. 
Isak  apparently  thought  it  better  for  men  to  grow 
up  without  book-knowledge,  from  the  way  he  dealt 
with  his  boys.  They  were  a  joy  and  a  blessing  to 
him,  the  two;  many  a  time  he  thought  of  the  days 
when  they  had  been  tiny  things,  and  their  mother 
would  not  let  him  touch  them  because  his  hands  were 

127 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

sticky  with  resin.  Ho,  resin,  the  cleanest  thing  in 
the  world!  Tar  and  goats'  milk  and  marrow,  for 
instance,  all  excellent  things,  but  resin,  clean  gum 
from  the  fir  —  not  a  word ! 

So  the  lads  grew  up  in  a  paradise  of  dirt  and  ig- 
norance, but  they  were  nice  lads  for  all  that  when 
they  were  washed,  which  happened  now  and  again; 
little  Sivert  he  was  a  splendid  fellow,  though  Eleseus 
was  something  finer  and  deeper. 

"  How  do  the  gulls  know  about  the  weather?  "  he 
asked. 

"  They're  weather-sick,"  said  his  father.  "  But 
as  for  that  they're  no  more  so  than  the  flies.  How 
it  may  be  with  flies,  I  can't  say,  if  they  get  the  gout, 
or  feel  giddy,  or  what.  But  never  hit  out  at  a  fly, 
for  'twill  only  make  him  worse  —  remember  that, 
boys!  The  horsefly  he's  a  different  sort,  he  dies  of 
himself.  Turns  up  suddenly  one  day  in  summer, 
and  there  he  is;  then  one  day  suddenly  he's  gone, 
and  that's  the  end  of  him." 

"  But  how  does  he  die?  "  asked  Eleseus. 

"  The  fat  inside  him  stiffens,  and  he  lies  there 
dead." 

Every  day  they  learned  something  new.  Jumping 
down  from  high  rocks,  for  instance,  to  keep  your 
tongue  in  your  mouth,  and  not  get  it  between  your 
teeth.  When  they  grew  bigger,  and  wanted  to  smell 
nice  for  going  to  church,  the  thing  was  to  rub  one- 
self with  a  little  tansy  that  grew  on  the  hillside. 
Father  was  full  of  wisdom.  He  taught  the  boys 

128 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

about  stones,  about  flint,  how  that  the  white  stone 
was  harder  than  the  grey;  but  when  he  had  found  a 
flint,  he  must  also  make  tinder.  Then  he  could 
strike  fire  with  it.  He  taught  them  about  the  moon, 
how  when  you  can  grip  in  the  hollow  side  with  your 
left  hand  it  is  waxing,  and  grip  in  with  the  right,  it's 
on  the  wane ;  remember  that,  boys !  Now  and  again, 
Isak  would  go  too  far,  and  grow  mysterious;  one 
day  he  declared  that  it  was  harder  for  a  camel  to 
enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven  than  for  a  human  being 
to  thread  the  eye  of  a  needle.  Another  time,  tell- 
ing them  of  the  glory  of  the  angels,  he  explained  that 
angels  had  stars  set  in  their  heels  instead  of  hob- 
nails. Good  and  simple  teaching,  well  fitted  for  set- 
tlers in  the  wilds;  the  schoolmaster  in  the  village 
would  have  laughed  at  it  all,  but  Isak's  boys  found 
good  use  for  it  in  their  inner  life.  They  were 
trained  and  taught  for  their  own  little  world,  and 
what  could  be  better?  In  the  autumn,  when  ani- 
mals were  to  be  killed,  the  lads  were  greatly  curious, 
and  fearful,  and  heavy  at  heart  for  the  ones  that 
were  to  die.  There  was  Isak  holding  with  one  hand, 
and  the  other  ready  to  strike;  Oline  stirred  the 
blood.  The  old  goat  was  led  out,  bearded  and  wise ; 
the  boys  stood  peeping  round  the  corner.  "  Filthy 
cold  wind  this  time,"  said  Eleseus,  and  turned  away 
to  wipe  his  eyes.  Little  Sivert  cried  more  openly, 
could  not  help  calling  out:  "  Oh,  poor  old  goatl  " 
When  the  goat  was  killed,  Isak  came  up  to  them  and 
gave  them  this  lesson:  "  Never  stand  around  say- 


129 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

ing  *  Poor  thing '  and  being  pitiful  when  things  are 
being  killed.  It  makes  them  tough  and  harder  to 
kill.  Remember  that!  " 

So  the  years  passed,  and  now  it  was  nearing  spring 
again. 

Inger  had  written  home  to  say  she  was  well,  and 
was  learning  a  lot  of  things  where  she  was.  Her 
little  girl  was  big,  and  was  called  Leopoldine,  after 
the  day  she  was  born,  the  I5th  November.  She 
knew  all  sorts  of  things,  and  was  a  genius  at  hem- 
stitch and  crochet,  wonderful  fine  work  she  could  do 
on  linen  or  canvas. 

The  curious  thing  about  this  letter  was  that  Inger 
had  written  and  spelt  it  all  herself.  Isak  was  not  so 
learned  but  that  he  had  to  get  it  read  for  him  down 
in  the  village,  by  the  man  at  the  store;  but  once  he 
had  got  it  into  his  head  it  stayed  there;  he  knew  it 
off  by  heart  when  he  got  home. 

And  now  he  sat  down  with  great  solemnity  at  the 
head  of  the  table,  spread  out  the  letter,  and  read  it 
aloud  to  the  boys.  He  was  willing  enough  that 
Oline  also  should  see  how  easily  he  could  read  writ- 
ing, but  he  did  not  speak  so  much  as  a  word  to  her 
directly.  When  he  had  finished,  he  said:  "There 
now,  Eleseus,  and  you,  Sivert,  'tis  your  mother  her- 
self has  written  that  letter  and  learned  all  these 
things.  Even  that  little  tiny  sister  of  yours,  she 
knows  more  than  all  the  rest  of  us  here.  Remem- 
ber that !  "  The  boys  sat  still,  wondering  in  silence. 

"  Ay,  'tis  a  grand  thing,"  said  Oline. 

And  what  did  she  mean  by  that?     Was  she  doubt- 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

ing  that  Inger  told  the  truth?  Or  had  she  her  sus- 
picions as  to  Isak's  reading?  It  was  no  easy  matter 
to  get  at  what  Oline  really  thought,  when  she  sat 
there  with  her  simple  face,  saying  dark  things.  Isak 
determined  to  take  no  notice. 

"  And  when  your  mother  comes  home,  boys,  you 
shall  learn  to  write  too,"  said  he  to  the  lads. 

Oline  shifted  some  clothes  that  were  hanging  near 
the  stove  to  dry;  shifted  a  pot,  shifted  the  clothes 
again,  and  busied  herself  generally.  She  was  think- 
ing all  the  time. 

"  So  fine  and  grand  as  everything's  getting  here," 
she  said  at  last.  "  I  do  think  you  might  have  bought 
a  paper  of  coffee  for  the  house." 

"  Coffee?  "  said  Isak.     It  slipped  out. 

Oline  answered  quietly :  "  Up  to  now  I've  bought 
a  little  now  and  again  out  of  my  own  money, 
but  .  .  ." 

Coffee  was  a  thing  of  dreams  and  fairy  tales  for 
Isak,  a  rainbow.  Oline  was  talking  nonsense,  of 
course.  He  was  not  angry  with  her,  no;  but,  slow 
of  thought  as  he  was,  he  called  to  mind  at  last  her 
bartering  with  the  Lapps,  and  he  said  bitterly: 

"  Ay,  I'll  buy  you  coffee,  that  I  will.  A  paper  of 
coffee,  was  it?  Why  not  a  pound?  A  pound  of 
coffee,  while  you're  about  it." 

"  No  need  to  talk  that  way,  Isak.  My  brother 
Nils,  he  gets  coffee ;  down  at  Breidablik,  too,  they've 
coffee." 

"  Ay,  for  they've  no  milk.  Not  a  drop  of  milk 
on  the  place,  they've  not." 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  That's  as  it  may  be.  But  you  that  know  such 
a  lot,  and  read  writing  as  pat  as  a  cockroach  run- 
ning, you  ought  to  know  that  coffee's  a  thing  should 
be  in  everybody's  house." 

"  You  creature !  "  said  Isak. 

At  that  Oline  sat  down  and  was  not  to  be  silenced. 
"  As  for  that  Inger,"  said  she,  "  if  so  be  I  may  dare 
to  say  such  a  word.  .  .  ." 

"  Say  what  you  will,  'tis  all  one  to  me." 

"  She'll  be  coming  home,  and  learned  everything 
of  sorts.  And  beads  and  feathers  in  her  hat, 
maybe?  " 

"  Ay,  that  may  be." 

"  Ay,"  said  Oline;  "  and  she  can  thank  me  a  little 
for  all  the  way  she's  grown  so  fine  and  grand." 

"  You?  "  asked  Isak.     It  slipped  out. 

Oline  answered  humbly:  "Ay,  since  'twas  my 
modest  doing  that  she  ever  went  away." 

Isak  was  speechless  at  that;  all  his  words  were 
checked,  he  sat  there  staring.  Had  he  heard  aright? 
Oline  sat  there  looking  as  if  she  had  said  nothing. 
No,  in  a  battle  of  words  Isak  was  altogether  lost. 

He  swung  out  of  the  house,  full  of  dark  thoughts. 
Oline,  that  beast  that  throve  in  wickedness  and  grew 
fat  on  it  —  why  had  he  not  wrung  her  neck  the  first 
year?  So  he  thought,  trying  to  pull  himself  to- 
gether. He  could  have  done  it  —  he?  Couldn't 
he,  though !  No  one  better. 

And  then  a  ridiculous  thing  happened.  Isak  went 
into  the  shed  and  counted  the  goats.  There  they 
are  with  their  kids,  the  full  number.  He  counts  the 

132 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

cows,  the  pig,  fourteen  hens,  two  calves.  "  I'd  all 
but  forgotten  the  sheep,"  he  says  to  himself;  he 
counts  the  sheep,  and  pretends  to  be  all  anxiety  lest 
there  should  be  any  missing  there.  Isak  knows  very 
well  that  there  is  a  sheep  missing;  he  has  known  that 
a  long  time;  why  should  he  let  it  appear  otherwise? 
It  was  this  way.  Oline  had  tricked  him  nicely  once 
before,  saying  one  of  the  goats  was  gone,  though  all 
the  goats  were  there  as  they  should  be;  he  had  made 
a  great  fuss  about  it  at  the  time,  but  to  no  purpose. 
It  was  always  the  same  when  he  came  into  conflict 
with  Oline.  Then,  in  the  autumn,  at  slaughtering 
time,  he  had  seen  at  once  that  there  was  one  ewe 
short,  but  he  had  not  found  courage  to  call  her  to 
account  for  it  at  the  time.  And  he  had  not  found 
that  courage  since. 

But  today  he  is  stern;  Isak  is  stern.  Oline  has 
made  him  thoroughly  angry  this  time.  He  counts 
the  sheep  over  again,  putting  his  forefinger  on  each 
and  counting  aloud  —  Oline  may  hear  it  if  she  likes, 
if  she  should  happen  to  be  outside.  And  he  says 
many  hard  things  about  Oline  —  says  them  out  loud; 
how  that  she  uses  a  new  method  of  her  own  in  feed- 
ing sheep,  a  method  that  simply  makes  them  vanish 
—  here's  a  ewe  simply  vanished.  She  is  a  thieving 
baggage,  nothing  less,  and  she  may  know  it!  Oh, 
he  would  just  have  liked  Oline  to  be  standing  outside 
and  hear  it,  and  be  thoroughly  frightened  for  once. 

He  strides  out  from  the  shed,  goes  to  the  stable 
and  counts  the  horse ;  from  there  he  will  go  in  —  will 
go  into  the  house  and  speak  his  mind.  He  walks  so 

133 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

fast  that  his  shirt  stands  out  like  a  very  angry  shirt 
behind  him.  But  Oline  as  like  as  not  has  noticed 
something,  looking  out  through  the  glass  window; 
she  appears  in  the  doorway,  quietly  and  steadily,  with 
buckets  in  her  hands,  on  her  way  to  the  cowshed. 

"  What  have  you  done  with  that  ewe  with  the 
flat  ears?  "  he  asks. 

"  Ewe?  "  she  asks. 

"  Ay.  If  she'd  been  here  she'd  have  had  two 
lambs  by  now.  What  have  you  done  with  them? 
She  always  had  two.  You've  done  me  out  of  three 
together,  do  you  understand?  " 

Oline  is  altogether  overwhelmed,  altogether  an- 
nihilated by  the  accusation;  she  wags  her  head,  and 
her  legs  seem  to  melt  away  under  her  —  she  might 
fall  and  hurt  herself.  Her  head  is  busy  all  the  time ; 
her  ready  wit  had  always  helped  her,  always  served 
her  well;  it  must  not  fail  her  now. 

"  I  steal  goats  and  I  steal  the  sheep,"  she  says 
quietly.  "  And  what  do  I  do  with  them,  I  should 
like  to  know?  I  don't  eat  them  up  all  by  myself,  I 
suppose?  " 

"  You  know  best  what  you  do  with  them." 

"  Ho !  As  if  I  didn't  have  enough  and  to  spare 
of  meat  and  food  and  all,  with  what  you  give  me, 
Isak,  that  I  should  have  to  steal  more?  But  I'll 
say  that,  anyway,  I've  never  needed  so  much,  all 
these  years." 

'Well,  what  have  you  done  with  the  sheep? 
Has  Os-Anders  had  it?" 

"  Os-Anders? "     Oline    has    to    set    down    the 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

buckets  and  fold  her  hands.  "  May  I  never  have 
more  guilt  to  answer  for!  What's  all  this  about  a 
ewe  and  lambs  you're  talking  of?  Is  it  the  goat 
you  mean,  with  the  flat  ears?  " 

"  You  creature !  "  said  Isak,  turning  away. 

"  Well,  if  you're  not  a  miracle,  Isak,  I  will  say 
.  .  .  Here  you've  all  you  could  wish  for  every  sort, 
and  a  heavenly  host  of  sheep  and  goats  and  all  in 
your  own  shed,  and  you've  not  enough.  How 
should  I  know  what  sheep,  and  what  two  lambs, 
you're  trying  to  get  out  of  me  now?  You  should  be 
thanking  the  Lord  for  His  mercies  from  generation 
to  generation,  that  you  should.  'Tis  but  this  sum- 
mer and  a  bit  of  a  way  to  next  winter,  and  you've 
the  lambing  season  once  more,  and  three  times  as 
many  again." 

Oh,  that  woman  Oline ! 

Isak  went  off  grumbling  like  a  bear.  "  Fool  I  was 
not  to  murder  her  the  first  day!  "  he  thought,  calling 
himself  all  manner  of  names.  "  Idiot,  lump  of  rub- 
bish that  I  was !  But  it's  not  too  late  yet;  just  wait, 
let  her  go  to  the  cowshed  if  she  likes.  It  wouldn't 
be  wise  to  do  anything  tonight,  but  tomorrow  .  .  . 
ay,  tomorrow  morning's  the  time.  Three  sheep  lost 
and  gone !  And  coffee,  did  she  say !  " 


135 


Chapter  X 


NEXT  day  was  fated  to  bring  a  great  event. 
There  came  a  visitor  to  the  farm  —  Geiss- 
ler  came.     It  was  not  yet  summer  on  the 
moors,  but  Geissler  paid  no  heed  to  the  state  of 
the  ground;  he  came  on  foot,  in  rich  high  boots  with 
broad,  shiny  tops;  yellow  gloves,  too,  he  wore,  and 
was  elegant  to  see;  a  man  from  the  village  carried 
his  things. 

He  had  come,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  to  buy  a  piece 
of  Isak's  land,  up  in  the  hills  —  a  copper  mine. 
And  what  about  the  price?  Also,  by  the  way,  he 
had  a  message  from  Inger  —  good  girl,  every  one 
liked  her;  he  had  been  in  Trondhjem,  and  seen  her. 
"  Isak,  you've  put  in  some  work  here." 

"Ay,  I  dare  say     And  you've  seen  Inger?  " 

"What's  that  you've  got  over  there?  Built  a 
mill  of  your  own,  have  you?  grind  your  own  corn? 
Excellent.  And  you've  turned  up  a  good  bit  of 
ground  since  I  was  here  last." 

"Is  she  well?" 

"Eh?  Oh,  your  wife!  —  yes,  she's  well  and  fit. 
Let's  go  in  the  next  room.  I'll  tell  you  all  about 
it." 

"  'Tis  not  in  order,"  put  in  Oline.  Oline  had 
her  own  reasons  for  not  wishing  them  to  go  in. 

136 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

They  went  into  the  little  room  nevertheless,  and 
closed  the  door.  Oline  stood  in  the  kitchen  and 
could  hear  nothing. 

Geissler  sat  down,  slapped  his  knee  with  a  power- 
ful hand,  and  there  he  was  —  master  of  Isak's  fate. 

"You  haven't  sold  that  copper  tract  yet?"  he 
asked. 

"  No." 

"  Good.  I'll  buy  it  myself.  Yes,  I've  seen  In- 
ger  and  some  other  people  too.  She'll  be  out  before 
long,  if  I'm  not  greatly  mistaken  —  the  case  has 
been  submitted  to  the  King." 

"The  King?" 

"  The  King,  yes.  I  went  in  to  have  a  talk  with 
your  wife  —  they  managed  it  for  me,  of  course, 
no  difficulty  about  that  —  and  we  had  a  long  talk. 
'Well,  Inger,  how  are  you  getting  on?  Nicely, 
what?  '  '  Why,  I've  no  cause  to  complain.'  '  Like 
to  be  home  again  ?  '  '  Ay,  I'll  not  say  no.'  '  And 
so  you  shall  before  very  long,'  said  I.  And  I'll  tell 
you  this  much,  Isak,  she's  a  good  girl,  is  Inger.  No 
blubbering,  not  so  much  as  a  tear,  but  smiling  and 
laughing  .  .  .  they've  fixed  up  that  trouble  with  her 
mouth,  by  the  way  —  operation  —  sewed  it  up 
again.  'Good-bye,  then,'  said  I.  *  You  won't  be 
here  very  long,  I'll  promise  you  that.' 

"  Then  I  went  to  the  Governor  —  he  saw  me,  of 
course,  no  difficulty  about  that.  '  You've  a  woman 
here,'  said  I,  '  that  ought  to  be  out  of  the  place,  and 
back  in  her  home* — Inger  Sellanraa.'  'Inger?' 
said  he ;  '  why,  yes.  She's  a  good  sort  —  I  wish 

137 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

we  could  keep  her  for  twenty  years,'  said  he. 
'  Well,  you  won't,'  said  I.  '  She's  been  here  too 
long  already.'  *  Too  long? '  says  he.  *  Do  you 
know  what  she's  in  for?'  'I  know  all  about  it,' 
says  I,  '  being  Lensmand  in  the  district.'  '  Oh,' 
says  he,  '  won't  you  sit  down?  '  Quite  the  proper 
thing  to  say,  of  course.  '  Why,'  says  the  Governor 
then,  '  we  do  what  we  can  for  her  here,  and  her 
little  girl  too.  So  she's  from  your  part  of  the 
country,  is  she?  We've  helped  her  to  get  a  sew- 
ing-machine of  her  own;  she's  gone  through  the 
workshops  right  to  the  top,  and  we've  taught  her 
a  deal  —  weaving,  household  work,  dyeing,  cutting 
out.  Been  here  too  long,  you  say?  '  Well,  I'd  got 
my  answer  ready  for  that  all  right,  but  it  could  wait, 
so  I  only  said  her  case  had  been  badly  muddled,  and 
had  to  be  taken  up  again;  now,  after  the  revision  of 
the  criminal  code,  she'd  probably  have  been  acquitted 
altogether.  And  I  told  him  about  the  hare.  '  A 
hare  ? '  says  the  Governor.  '  A  hare,'  says  I. 
'  And  the  child  was  born  with  a  hare-lip.'  '  Oh,' 
says  he,  smiling,  '  I  see.  And  you  think  they  ought 
to  have  made  more  allowance  for  that?'  'They 
didn't  make  any  at  all,'  said  I,  '  for  it  wasn't  men- 
tioned.' '  Well,  I  dare  say  it's  not  so  bad,  after 
all.'  '  Bad  enough  for  her,  anyway.'  *  Do  you  be- 
lieve a  hare  can  work  miracles,  then?'  says  he. 
'  As  to  that,'  said  I,  *  whether  a  hare  can  work 
miracles  or  not's  a  matter  I  won't  discuss  just  now. 
The  question  is,  what  effect  the  sight  of  a  hare  might 
have  on  a  woman  with  her  disfigurement,  in  her  con- 

138 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

dition.'  Well,  he  thought  over  that  for  a  bit. 
'  H'm,'  says  he  at  last.  '  Maybe,  maybe.  Anyhow, 
we're  not  concerned  with  that  here.  All  we  have 
to  do  is  to  take  over  the  people  they  send  us;  not 
to  revise  their  sentences.  And  according  to  her 
sentence,  Inger's  not  yet  finished  her  time.' 

"  Well,  then,  I  started  on  what  I  wanted  to  say  all 
along.  '  There  was  a  serious  oversight  made  in 
bringing  her  here  to  begin  with,'  said  I.  '  An  over- 
sight? '  '  Yes.  In  the  first  place,  she  ought  never 
to  have  been  sent  across  the  country  at  all  in  the 
state  she  was  in.'  He  looks  at  me  stiffly.  '  No, 
that's  perfectly  true,'  says  he.  '  But  it's  nothing 
to  do  with  us  here,  you  know.'  '  And  in  the  second 
place,'  said  I,  '  she  ought  certainly  not  to  have  been 
in  the  prison  for  full  two  months  without  any  notice 
taken  of  her  condition  by  the  authorities  here.' 
That  put  him  out,  I  could  see;  he  said  nothing  for 
quite  a  while.  '  Are  you  instructed  to  act  on  her 
behalf?"  says  he  at  last.  'Yes,  I  am,'  said  I. 
Well,  then,  he  started  on  about  how  pleased  they 
had  been  with  her,  and  telling  me  over  again  all 
they'd  taught  her  and  done  for  her  there  —  taught 
her  to  write  too,  he  said.  And  the  little  girl  had 
been  put  out  to  nurse  with  decent  people,  and  so  on. 
Then  I  told  him  how  things  were  at  home,  with 
Inger  away.  Two  youngsters  left  behind,  and  only 
a  hired  woman  to  look  after  them,  and  all  the  rest. 
'  I've  a  statement  from  her  husband,'  said  I,  '  that  I 
can  submit  whether  the  case  be  taken  up  for  thor- 
ough revision,  or  an  application  be  made  for  a  par- 

139 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

don.'  '  I'd  like  to  see  that  statement,'  says  the 
Governor.  '  Right,'  said  I.  '  I'll  bring  it  along  to- 
morrow in  visiting  hours.'  ' 

Isak  sat  listening  —  it  was  thrilling  to  hear,  a 
wonderful  tale  from  foreign  parts.  He  followed 
Geissler's  mouth  with  slavish  eyes. 

Geissler  went  on:  "I  went  straight  back  to  the 
hotel  and  wrote  out  a  statement ;  did  the  whole  thing 
myself,  you  understand,  and  signed  it  '  Isak  Sellan- 
raa.'  Don't  imagine,  though,  I  said  a  word  against 
the  way  they'd  managed  things  in  the  prison.  Not 
a  word.  Next  day  I  went  along  with  the  paper. 
4  Won't  you  sit  down?  '  says  the  Governor,  the  mo- 
ment I  got  inside  the  door.  He  read  through  what 
I'd  written,  nodded  here  and  there,  and  at  last  he 
says :  '  Very  good,  very  good  indeed.  It'd  hardly 
do,  perhaps,  to  have  the  case  brought  up  again  for 
revision,  but  .  .  .'  *  Wait  a  bit,'  said  I.  '  I've  an- 
other document  that  I  think  will  make  it  right.' 
Had  him  there  again,  you  see.  '  Well,'  he  says,  all 
of  a  hurry,  '  I've  been  thinking  over  the  matter  since 
yesterday,  and  I  consider  there's  good  and  sufficient 
grounds  to  apply  for  a  pardon.'  '  And  the  applica- 
tion would  have  the  Governor's  support?  '  I  asked. 
4  Certainly;  yes,  I'll  give  it  my  best  recommendation.' 
Then  I  bowed  and  said:  4  In  that  case,  there  will  be 
no  difficulty  about  the  pardon,  of  course.  I  thank 
you,  sir,  on  behalf  of  a  suffering  woman  and  a 
stricken  home.'  Then  says  he :  '  I  don't  think  there 
should  be  any  need  of  further  declarations —  from 
the  district,  I  mean  —  about  her  case.  You  know 

140 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

the  woman  yourself  —  that  should  be  quite  enough.' 
I  knew  well  enough,  of  course,  why  he  wanted  the 
thing  settled  quietly  as  possible,  so  I  just  agreed: 
said  it  would  only  delay  the  proceedings  to  collect 
further  material.  .  .  . 

"  And  there  you  are,  Isak,  that's  the  whole  story." 
Geissler  looked  at  his  watch.  "  And  now  let's  get 
to  business.  Can  you  go  with  me  up  to  the  ground 
again?  " 

Isak  was  a  stony  creature,  a  stump  of  a  man;  he 
did  not  find  it  easy  to  change  the  subject  all  at  once; 
he  was  all  preoccupied  with  thoughts  and  wondering, 
and  began  asking  questions  of  this  and  that.  He 
learned  that  the  application  had  been  sent  up  to  the 
King,  and  might  be  decided  in  one  of  the  first  State 
Councils.  "  'Tis  all  a  miracle,"  said  he. 

Then  they  went  up  into  the  hills;  Geissler,  his 
man,  and  Isak,  and  were  out  for  some  hours.  In 
a  very  short  time  Geissler  had  followed  the  lie  of 
the  copper  vein  over  a  wide  stretch  of  land  and 
marked  out  the  limits  of  the  tract  he  wanted.  Here, 
there,  and  everywhere  he  was.  But  no  fool,  for  all 
his  hasty  movements;  quick  to  judge,  but  sound 
enough  for  all  that. 

When  they  came  back  to  the  farm  once  more  with 
a  sack  full  of  samples  of  ore  —  he  got  out  writing 
materials  and  sat  down  to  write.  He  did  not  bury 
himself  completely  in  his  writing,  though,  but  talked 
now  and  again.  "  Well,  Isak,  it  won't  be  such  a  big 
sum  this  time,  for  the  land,  but  I  can  give  you  a 
couple  of  hundred  Daler  anyway,  on  the  spot." 

141 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Then  he  wrote  again.  "  Remind  me  before  I  go,  I 
want  to  see  that  mill  of  yours,"  said  he.  Then  he 
caught  sight  of  some  blue  and  red  marks  on  the 
frame  of  the  loom,  and  asked,  "  Who  drew  that?  " 
Now  that  was  Eleseus,  had  drawn  a  horse  and  a 
goat;  he  used  his  coloured  pencil  on  the  loom  and 
woodwork  anywhere,  having  no  paper.  "  Not  at  all 
bed,"  said  Geissler,  and  gave  Eleseus  a  coin. 

Geissler  went  on  writing  for  a  bit,  and  then 
looked  up.  "  You'll  be  having  other  people  taking 
up  land  hereabouts  before  long." 

At  this  the  man  with  him  spoke :  "  There's  some 
started  already." 

"  Ho !     And  who  might  that  be  ?  " 

"  Well,  first,  there's  the  folk  at  Breidablik,  as 
they  call  it  —  man  Brede,  at  Breidablik." 

"  Him  —  puh!  "  sniffed  Geissler  contemptuously. 

"  Then  there's  one  or  two  others  besides,  have 
bought." 

"  Doubt  if  they're  any  good,  any  of  them,"  said 
Geissler.  And  noticing  at  the  same  moment  that 
there  were  two  boys  in  the  room,  he  caught  hold  of 
little  Sivert  and  gave  him  a  coin.  A  remarkable 
man  was  Geissler.  His  eyes,  by  the  way,  had  begun 
to  look  soreish;  there  was  a  kind  of  redness  at  the 
edges.  Might  have  been  sleeplessness;  the  same 
thing  comes  at  times  from  drinking  of  strong  waters. 
But  he  did  not  look  dejected  at  all;  and  for  all 
his  talking  of  this  and  that  between  times,  he  was 
thinking  no  doubt  of  his  document  all  the  while,  for 

142 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

suddenly  he  picked  up  the  pen  and  wrote  a  piece 
more. 

At  last  he  seemed  to  have  finished. 

He  turned  to  Isak:  "Well,  as  I  said,  it  won't 
make  you  a  rich  man  all  at  once,  this  deal.  But 
there  may  be  more  to  come.  We'll  fix  it  up  so  that 
you  get  more  later  on.  Anyhow,  I  can  give  you 
two  hundred  now." 

Isak  understood  but  little  of  the  whole  thing,  but 
two  hundred  Daler  was  at  any  rate  another  miracle, 
and  an  unreasonable  sum.  He  would  get  it  on 
paper,  of  course,  not  paid  in  cash,  but  let  that  be. 
Isak  had  other  things  in  his  head  just  now. 

"  And  you  think  she'll  be  pardoned?  "  he  asked. 

"  Eh?  Oh,  your  wife!  Well,  if  there'd  been  a 
telegraph  office  in  the  village,  I'd  have  wired  to 
Trondhjem  and  asked  if  she  hadn't  been  set  free  al- 
ready." 

Isak  had  heard  men  speak  of  the  telegraph;  a 
wonderful  thing,  a  string  hung  up  on  big  poles,  some- 
thing altogether  above  the  common  earth.  The 
mention  of  it  now  seemed  to  shake  his  faith  in 
Geissler's  big  words,  and  he  put  in  anxiously:  "  But 
suppose  the  King  says  no?  " 

Said  Geissler:  "  In  that  case,  I  send  in  my  supple- 
mentary material,  a  full  account  of  the  whole  affair. 
And  then  they  must  set  her  free.  There's  not  a 
shadow  of  doubt." 

Then  he  read  over  what  he  had  written;  the  con- 
tract for  purchase  of  the  land.  Two  hundred  Daler 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

cash  down,  and  later,  a  nice  high  percentage  of 
receipts  from  working,  or  ultimate  disposal  by  fur- 
ther sale,  of  the  copper  tract.  "  Sign  your  name 
here,"  said  Geissler. 

Isak  would  have  signed  readily  enough,  but  he 
was  no  scholar;  in  all  his  life  he  had  got  no  farther 
than  cutting  initials  in  wood.  But  there  was  that 
hateful  creature  Oline  looking  on;  he  took  up  the 
pen  —  a  beastly  thing,  too  light  to  handle  anyway  — 
turned  it  right  end  down,  and  wrote  —  wrote  his 
name.  Whereupon  Geissler  added  something,  pre- 
sumably an  explanation,  and  the  man  he  had  brought 
with  him  signed  as  a  witness. 

Settled. 

But  Oline  was  still  there,  standing  immovable  — 
it  was  indeed  but  now  she  had  turned  so  stiff.  What 
was  to  happen? 

"  Dinner  on  the  table,  Oline,"  said  Isak,  possibly 
with  a  tough  of  dignity,  after  having  signed  his  name 
in  writing  on  a  paper.  "  Such  as  we  can  offer,"  he 
added  to  Geissler. 

"  Smells  good  enough,"  said  Geissler.  "  Sound 
meat  and  drink.  Here,  Isak,  here's  your  money!  " 
Geissler  took  out  his  pocket-book  —  thick  and  fat  it 
was,  too  —  drew  from  it  two  bundles  of  notes  and 
laid  them  down.  "  Count  it  over  yourself." 

Not  a  movement,  not  a  sound. 

"  Isak,"  said  Geissler  again. 

"  Ay.  Yes,"  answered  Isak,  and  murmured, 
overwhelmed,  "  'Tis  not  that  I've  asked  for  it,  nor 
would  —  after  all  you've  done." 

144 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  Ten  tens  in  that  —  should  be,  and  twenty  fives 
here,"  said  Geissler  shortly.  "  And  I  hope  there'll 
be  more  than  that  by  a  long  way  for  your  share 
soon." 

And  then  it  was  that  Oline  recovered  from  her 
trance.  The  wonder  had  happened  after  all.  She 
set  the  food  on  the  table. 

Next  morning  Geissler  went  out  to  the  river  to 
look  at  the  mill.  It  was  small  enough,  and  roughly 
built;  ay,  a  mill  for  dwarfs,  for  trollfolk,  but  strong 
and  useful  for  a  man's  work.  Isak  led  his  guest  a 
little  farther  up  the  river,  and  showed  him  another 
fall  he  had  been  working  on  a  bit;  it  was  to  turn  a 
saw,  if  so  be  God  gave  him  health.  "  The  only 
thing,"  he  said,  "  it's  a  heavy  long  way  from  school: 
I'll  have  to  get  the  lads  to  stay  down  in  the  village." 
But  Geissler,  always  so  quick  to  find  a  way,  saw 
nothing  to  worry  about  here.  "  There  are  more 
people  buying  and  settling  here  now,"  said  he.  "  It 
won't  be  long  before  there's  enough  to  start  a 
school." 

"  Ay,  maybe,  but  not  before  my  boys  are  grown." 

"  Well,  why  not  let  them  live  on  a  farm  down  in 
the  village?  You  could  drive  in  with  the  boys  and 
some  food,  and  bring  them  up  again  three  weeks  — 
six  weeks  after;  it  would  be  easy  enough  for  you, 
surely?  " 

"  Ay,  maybe,"  said  Isak. 

Ay,  all  things  would  be  easy  enough,  if  Inger 
came  home.  House  and  land  and  food  and  grand 
things  enough,  and  a  big  sum  of  money  too  he  had, 

H5 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

and  his  strength ;  he  was  hard  as  nails.  Health  and 
strength  —  ay,  full  and  unspoiled,  unworn,  in  every 
way,  the  health  and  strength  of  a  man. 

When  Geissler  had  gone,  Isak  began  thinking  of 
many  presumptuous  things.  Ay,  for  had  not  Geiss- 
ler, that  blessing  to  them  all,  said  at  parting  that  he 
would  send  a  message  very  soon  —  would  send  a 
telegram  as  soon  as  ever  he  could.  "  You  can  call 
in  at  the  post  office  in  a  fortnight's  time,"  he  had 
said.  And  that  in  itself  was  a  wonderful  thing 
enough.  Isak  set  to  work  making  a  seat  for  the 
cart.  A  seat,  of  course,  that  could  be  taken  off  when 
using  the  cart  for  manure,  but  to  be  put  in  again 
when  any  one  wanted  to  drive.  And  when  he  had 
got  the  seat  made,  it  looked  so  white  and  new  that  it 
had  to  be  painted  darker.  As  for  that,  there  were 
things  enough  that  had  to  be  done!  The  whole 
place  wanted  painting,  to  begin  with.  And  he  had 
been  thinking  for  years  past  of  building  a  proper 
barn  with  a  bridge,  to  house  in  the  crop.  He  had 
thought,  too,  of  getting  that  saw  set  up  and  finished; 
.of  fencing  in  all  his  cultivated  ground;  of  building 
a  boat  on  the  lake  up  in  the  hills.  Many  things  he 
had  thought  of  doing.  But  hard  as  he  worked,  un- 
reasonably hard  —  what  did  it  help  against  time  ? 
Time  —  it  was  the  time  that  was  too  short.  It  was 
Sunday  before  he  knew,  and  then  directly  after,  lo, 
it  was  Sunday  again! 

Paint  he  would,  in  any  case ;  that  was  decided  and 
emphatic.  The  buildings  stood  there  grey  and 
bare  —  stood  there  like  houses  in  their  shirt  sleeves. 

146 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

There  was  time  yet  before  the  busy  season;  the 
spring  was  hardly  begun  yet;  the  young  things  were 
out,  but  there  was  frost  in  the  ground  still. 

Isak  goes  down  to  the  village,  taking  with  him  a 
few  score  of  eggs  for  sale,  and  brings  back  paint. 
There  was  enough  for  one  building,  for  the  barn, 
and  it  was  painted  red.     He  fetches  up  more  paint, 
yellow  ochre  this  time,  for  the  house  itself.     "  Ay, 
'tis  as  I  said,  here's  going  to  be  fine  and  grand," 
grumbles  Oline  every  day.     Ay,  Oline  could  guess, 
no  doubt,  that  her  time  at  Sellanraa  would  soon  be 
up;  she  was  tough  and  strong  enough  to  bear  it, 
though  not  without  bitterness.     Isak,  on  his  part,  no 
longer  sought  to  settle  up  old  scores  with  her  now, 
though  she  pilfered  and  put  away  things  lavishly 
enough  towards  the  end.     He  made  her  a  present  of 
a  young  wether;  after  all,  she  had  been  with  him  a 
long  time,  and  worked  for  little  pay.     And  Oline 
had  not  been. so  bad  with  the  children;  she  was  not 
stern  and  strictly  righteous  and  that  sort  of  thing, 
but  had  a  knack  of  dealing  with  children:  listened 
to  what  they  said,  and  let  them  do  more  or  less  as 
they  pleased.     If  they  came  round  while  she  was 
making  cheese,  she  would  give  them  a  bit  to  taste; 
if  they  begged  to  be  let  off  washing  their  faces  one 
Sunday,  she  would  let  them  off. 

When  Isak  had  given  his  walls  a  first  coat,  he  went 
down  to  the  village  again  and  brought  up  all  the 
paint  he  could  carry.  Three  coats  he  put  on  in  all, 
and  white  on  the  window-frames  and  corners.  To 
come  back  now  and  look  at  his  home  there  on  the 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

hillside,  it  was  like  looking  at  a  fairy  palace.  The 
wilderness  was  inhabited  and  unrecognizable,  a  bless- 
ing had  come  upon  it,  life  had  arisen  there  from  a 
long  dream,  human  creatures  lived  there,  children 
played  about  the  houses.  And  the  forest  stretched 
away,  big  and  kindly,  right  up  to  the  blue  heights. 

But  the  last  time  Isak  went  down  for  paint,  the 
storekeeper  gave  him  a  blue  envelope  with  a  crest 
on,,  and  5  shilling  to  pay.  It  was  a  telegram  which 
had  been  forwarded  by  post,  and  was  from  Lens- 
mand  Geissler.  A  blessing  on  that  man  Geissler, 
wonderful  man  that  he  was !  He  telegraphed  these 
few  words,  that  Inger  was  free,  "  Home  soonest 
possible:  Geissler."  And  at  this  the  store  took  to 
whirling  curiously  round  and  round;  the  counter  and 
the  people  in  the  shop  were  suddenly  far  away. 
Isak  felt  rather  than  heard  himself  saying,  "  Herre- 
gud!  "  and  "  Praise  and  thanks  to  God." 

"  She  might  be  here  no  later  than  tomorrow  the 
day,"  said  the  storekeeper,  "  if  so  be  she's  left 
Trondhjem  in  time." 

"Ho!"  said  Isak. 

He  waited  till  the  next  day.  The  carrier  came 
up  with  letters,  from  the  landing-stage  where  the 
steamer  put  in,  but  no  Inger.  "  Then  she  won't 
be  here  now  till  next  week,"  the  storekeeper  said. 

Almost  as  well,  after  all,  that  there  was  time  to 
wait  —  Isak  has  many  things  to  do.  Should  he 
forget  himself  altogether,  and  neglect  his  land? 
He  sets  off  home  again  and  begins  carting  out 
manure.  It  is  soon  done.  He  sticks  a  crowbar  into 

148 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

the  earth,  noting  how  the  frost  disappears  from  day 
to  day.  The  sun  is  big  and  strong  now,  the  snow  is 
gone,  green  showing  everywhere;  the  cattle  are  out 
to  graze.  Isak  ploughs  one  day,  and  a  few  days 
later  he  is  sowing  corn,  planting  potatoes.  Ho,  the 
youngsters  too,  planting  potatoes  like  angels ;  blessed 
little  hands  they  have,  and  what  can  their  father  do 
but  watch? 

Then  Isak  washes  out  the  cart  down  by  the  river, 
and  puts  the  seat  in.  Talks  to  the  lads  about  a  little 
journey;  he  must  have  a  little  journey  down  to  the 
village. 

"  But  aren't  you  going  to  walk?  " 

"  Not  today.  I've  took  into  my  head  to  go  down 
with  horse  and  cart  today." 

"  Can't  we  come  too?  " 

"  You've  got  to  be  good  boys,  and  stay  at  home 
this  time.  Your  own  mother'll  be  coming  very  soon, 
and  she'll  learn  you  a  many  things." 

Eleseus  is  all  for  learning  things;  he  asks: 
"  Father,  when  you  did  that  writing  on  the  paper 
—  what  does  it  feel  like?  " 

"Why,  'tis  hardly  to  feel  at  all;  just  like  a  bit 
of  nothing  in  the  hand." 

"  But  doesn't  it  slip,  like  on  the  ice?  " 

"What  slip?" 

"  The  pen  thing,  that  you  write  with?  " 

"  Ay,  there's  the  pen.  But  you  have  to  learn  to 
steer  it,  you'll  see." 

But  little  Sivert  he  was  of  another  mind,  and  said 
nothing  about  pens;  he  wanted  to  ride  in  the  cart; 

149 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

just  to  sit  up  on  the  seat  before  the  horse  was  put  in, 
and  drive  like  that,  driving  ever  so  fast  in  a  cart 
without  a  horse.  And  it  was  all  his  doing  that 
father  let  them  both  sit  up  and  ride  with  him  a 
long  way  down  the  road. 


150 


Chapter  XI 


ISAK  drives  on  till  he  comes  to  a  tarn,  a  bit  of  a 
pool  on  the  moor,  and  there  he  pulls  up.  A 
pool  on  the  moors,  black,  deep  down,  and  the 
little  surface  of  the  water  perfectly  still;  Isak  knew 
what  that  was  good  for;  he  had  hardly  used  any 
other  mirror  in  his  life  than  such  a  bit  of  water  on 
the  moors.  Look  how  nice  and  neat  he  is  today, 
with  a  red  shirt;  he  takes  out  a  pair  of  scissors  now, 
and  trims  his  beard.  Vain  barge  of  a  man;  is  he 
going  to  make  himself  handsome  all  at  once,  and  cut 
away  five  years'  growth  of  iron  beard?  He  cuts 
and  cuts  away,  looking  at  himself  in  his  glass.  He 
might  have  done  all  this  at  home,  of  course,  but  was 
shy  of  doing  it  before  Oline;  it  was  quite  enough  to 
stand  there  right  in  front  of  her  nose  and  put  on  a 
red  shirt.  He  cuts  and  cuts  away,  a  certain  amount 
of  beard  falls  into  his  patent  mirror.  The  horse 
grows  impatient  at  last  and  is  moving  on;  Isak  is 
fain  to  be  content  with  himself  as  he  is,  and  gets  up 
again.  And  indeed  he  feels  somehow  younger  al- 
ready —  devil  knows  what  it  could  be,  but  somehow 
slighter  of  build.  Isak  drives  down  to  the  village. 

Next  day  the  mail  boat  comes  in.  Isak  climbs  up 
on  a  rock  by  the  storekeeper's  wharf,  looking  out, 
but  still  no  Inger  to  be  seen.  Passengers  there  were, 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

grown-up  folk  and  children  with  them  —  Herregud! 
—  but  no  Inger.  He  had  kept  in  the  background, 
sitting  on  his  rock,  but  there  was  no  need  to  stay 
behind  any  longer;  he  gets  down  and  goes  to  the 
steamer.  Barrels  and  cases  trundling  ashore,  people 
and  mailbags,  but  still  Isak  lacked  what  he  had  come 
for.  There  was  something  there  —  a  woman  with 
a  little  girl,  up  at  the  entrance  to  the  landing-stage 
already;  but  the  woman  was  prettier  to  look  at  than 
Inger  —  though  Inger  was  good  enough.  What  — 
why  —  but  it  was  Inger!  "  H'm,"  said  Isak,  and 
trundled  up  to  meet  them.  Greetings:  "  Goddag" 
said  Inger,  and  held  out  her  hand;  a  little  cold,  a 
little  pale  after  the  voyage,  and  being  ill  on  the 
way.  Isak,  he  just  stood  there ;  at  last  he  said : 

"  H'm.     Tis  a  fine  day  and  all." 

"  I  saw  you  down  there  all  along,"  said  Inger. 
"  But  I  didn't  want  to  come  crowding  ashore  with 
the  rest.  So  you're  down  in  the  village  today?  " 

"  Ay,  yes.     H'm." 

"  And  all's  well  at  home,  everything  all  right?  " 

"  Ay,  thank  you  kindly." 

"  This  is  Leopoldine;  she's  stood  the  voyage  much 
better  than  I  did.  This  is  your  papa,  Leopoldine; 
come  and  shake  hands  nicely." 

"  H'm,"  said  Isak,  feeling  very  strange  —  ay,  he 
was  like  a  stranger  with  them  all  at  once. 

Said  Inger:  "  If  you  find  a  sewing-machine  down 
by  the  boat,  it'll  be  mine.  And  there's  a  chest  as 
well." 

Off  goes  Isak,  goes  off  more  than  willingly,  after 
152 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

the  chest;  the  men  on  board  showed  him  which  it 
was.  The  sewing-machine  was  another  matter; 
Inger  had  to  go  down  and  find  that  herself.  It  was 
a  handsome  box,  of  curious  shape,  with  a  round 
cover  over,  and  a  handle  to  carry  it  by  —  a  sewing- 
machine  in  these  parts !  Isak  hoisted  the  chest  and 
the  sewing-machine  on  to  his  shoulders,  and  turned 
to  his  wife  and  child: 

"  I'll  have  these  up  in  no  time,  and  come  back  for 
her  after." 

"Come  back  for  who?"  asked  Inger,  with  a 
smile.  "  Did  you  think  she  couldn't  walk  by  herself, 
a  big  girl  like  that?  " 

They  walked  up  to  where  Isak  had  left  the  horse 
and  cart. 

"New  horse,  you've  got?"  said  Inger.  "And 
what's  that  you've  got  —  a  cart  with  a  seat  in?  " 

"  Tis  but  natural,"  said  Isak.  "  What  I  was 
going  to  say:  Wouldn't  you  care  for  a  little  bit  of 
something  to  eat?  I've  brought  things  all  ready." 

"  Wait  till  we  get  a  bit  on  the  way,"  said  she. 
"  Leopoldine,  can  you  sit  up  by  yourself?  " 

But  her  father  won't  have  it;  she  might  fall  down 
under  the  wheels.  "  You  sit  up  with  her  and  drive 
yourself." 

So  they  drove  off,  Isak  walking  behind. 

He  looked  at  the  two  in  the  cart  as  he  walked. 
There  was  Inger,  all  strangely  dressed  and  strange 
and  fine  to  look  at,  with  no  hare-lip  now,  but  only  a 
tiny  scar  on  the  upper  lip.  No  hissing  when  she 
talked;  she  spoke  all  clearly,  and  that  was  the  won- 

153 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

der  of  it  all.  A  grey-and-red  woollen  wrap  with  a 
fringe  looked  grand  on  her  dark  hair.  She  turned 
round  in  her  seat  on  the  cart,  and  called  to  him : 

"  It's  a  pity  you  didn't  bring  a  skin  rug  with  you ; 
it'll  be  cold,  I  doubt,  for  the  child  towards  night." 

"  She  can  have  my  jacket,"  said  Isak.  "  And 
when  we  get  up  in  the  woods,  I've  left  a  rug  there 
on  the  way." 

"  Oh,  have  you  a  rug  up  in  the  woods?  " 

"  Ay.  I  wouldn't  bring  it  down  all  the  way,  for 
if  you  didn't  come  today." 

"  H'm.  What  was  it  you  said  before  —  the  boys 
are  well  and  all?  " 

"  Ay,  thank  you  kindly." 

"  They'll  be  big  lads  now,  I  doubt?  " 

"  Ay,  that's  true.  They've  just  been  planting 
potatoes." 

"  Oh !  "  said  the  mother,  smiling,  and  shaking  her 
head.  "  Can  they  plant  potatoes  already?  " 

"  Why,  Eleseus,  he  gives  a  hand  with  this,  and 
little  Sivert  helps  with  that,"  said  Isak  proudly. 

Little  Leopoldine  was  asking  for  something  to 
eat.  Oh,  the  pretty  little  creature;  a  ladybird  up 
on  a  cart !  She  talked  with  a  sing  in  her  voice,  with 
a  strange  accent,  as  she  had  learned  in  Trondhjem. 
Inger  had  to  translate  now  and  again.  She  had 
her  brothers'  features,  the  brown  eyes  and  oval 
cheeks  that  all  had  got  from  their  mother;  ay,  they 
were  their  mother's  children,  and  well  that  they  were 
so !  Isak  was  something  shy  of  his  little  girl,  shy 
of  her  tiny  shoes  and  long,  thin,  woollen  stockings 

154 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

and  short  frock;  when  she  had  come  to  meet  her 
strange  papa  she  had  curtseyed  and  offered  him  a 
tiny  hand. 

They  got  up  into  the  woods  and  halted  for  a  rest 
and  a  meal  all  round.  The  horse  had  his  fodder; 
Leopoldine  ran  about  in  the  heather,  eating  as  she 
went. 

"  You've  not  changed  much,"  said  Inger,  looking 
at  her  husband. 

Isak  glanced  aside,  and  said,  "  No,  you  think  not? 
But  you've  grown  so  grand  and  all." 

"  Ha  ha  1  Nay,  I'm  an  old  woman  now,"  said 
she  jestingly. 

It  was  no  use  trying  to  hide  the  fact :  Isak  was  not 
a  bit  sure  of  himself  now.  He  could  find  no  self- 
possession,  but  still  kept  aloof,  shy,  as  if  ashamed 
of  himself.  How  old  could  his  wife  be  now?  She 
couldn't  be  less  than  thirty  —  that  is  to  say,  she 
couldn't  be  more,  of  course.  And  Isak,  for  all  that 
he  was  eating  already,  must  pull  up  a  twig  of  heather 
and  fall  to  biting  that. 

"  What  —  are  you  eating  heather?  "  cried  Inger 
laughingly. 

Isak  threw  down  the  twig,  took  a  mouthful  of 
food,  and  going  over  to  the  road,  took  the  horse 
by  its  forelegs  and  heaved  up  its  forepart  till  the 
animal  stood  on  its  hindlegs.  Inger  looked  on  with 
astonishment. 

"  What  are  you  doing  that  for?  "  she  asked. 

"  Oh,  he's  so  playful,"  said  Isak,  and  set  the  horse 
down  again. 

155 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Now  what  had  he  done  that  for?  A  sudden  im- 
pulse to  do  just  that  thing;  perhaps  he  had  done  it 
to  hide  his  embarrassment. 

They  started  off  again,  and  all  three  of  them 
walked  a  bit  of  the  way.  They  came  to  a  new  farm. 

"  What's  that  there?  "  asked  Inger. 

"  'Tis  Brede's  place,  that  he's  bought." 

"Brede?" 

"  Breidablik,  he  calls  it.  There's  wide  moorland, 
but  the  timber's  poor." 

They  talked  of  the  new  place  as  they  passed  on. 
Isak  noticed  that  Brede's  cart  was  still  left  out  in 
the  open. 

The  child  was  growing  sleepy  now,  and  Isak  took 
her  gently  in  his  arms  and  carried  her.  They 
walked  and  walked.  Leopoldine  was  soon  fast 
asleep,  and  Inger  said: 

'  We'll  wrap  her  up  in  the  rug,  and  she  can  lie 
down  in  the  cart  and  sleep  as  long  as  she  likes." 

'Twill  shake  her  all  to  pieces,"  said  Isak,  and 
carries  her  on.  They  cross  the  moors  and  get  into 
the  woods  again. 

"  Ptro!  "  says  Inger,  and  the  horse  stops.  She 
takes  the  child  from  Isak,  gets  him  to  shift  the  chest 
and  the  sewing-machine,  making  a  place  for  Leo- 
poldine in  the  bottom  of  the  cart.  "  Shaken?  not  a 
bit  of  it!" 

Isak  fixes  things  to  rights,  tucks  his  little  daughter 
up  in  the  rug,  and  lays  his  jacket  folded  under  her 
head.  Then  off  again. 

Man  and  wife  gossiping  of  this  and  that.     The 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

sun  is  up  till  late  in  the  evening,  and  the  weather 


warm. 
« 


Oline,"  says  Inger  — "  where  does  she  sleep?  " 

"  In  the  little  room." 

''Ho!     And  the  boys?" 

'  They've  their  own  bed  in  the  big  room. 
There's  two  beds  there,  just  as  when  you  went 
away." 

"  Looking  at  you  now,"  said  Inger,  "  I  can  see 
you're  just  as  you  were  before.  And  those  shoul- 
ders of  yours,  they've  carried  some  burdens  up 
along  this  way,  but  they've  not  grown  the  weaker 
by  it,  seems." 

"  H'm.  Maybe.  What  I  was  going  to  say : 
How  it  was  like  with  you  all  the  years  there?  Bear- 
able like?"  Oh,  Isak  was  soft  at  heart  now;  he 
asked  her  that,  and  wondered  in  his  mind. 

And  Inger  said:  "Ay,  'twas  nothing  to  complain 
of." 

They  talked  more  feelingly  together,  and  Isak 
asked  if  she  wasn't  tired  of  walking,  and  would  get 
up  in  the  cart  a  bit  of  way.  "  No,  thanks  all  the 
same,"  said  she.  "  But  I  don't  know  what's  the 
matter  with  me  today;  after  being  ill  on  the  boat,  I 
feel  hungry  all  the  time." 

"  Why,  did  you  want  something,  then?  " 
'  Yes,  if  you  don't  mind  stopping  so  long." 

Oh,  that  Inger,  maybe  'twas  not  for  herself  at 
all,  but  for  Isak's  sake.  She  would  have  him  eat 
again;  he  had  spoiled  his  last  meal  chewing  twigs  of 
heather. 


157 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

And  the  evening  was  light  and  warm,  and  they  had 
but  a  few  miles  more  to  go;  they  sat  down  to  eat 
again. . 

Inger  took  a  parcel  from  her  box,  and  said: 

"  I've  a  few  things  I  brought  along  for  the  boys. 
Let's  go  over  there  in  the  bushes,  it's  warmer  there." 

They  went  across  to  the  bushes,  and  she  showed 
him  the  things ;  neat  braces  with  buckles  for  the  boys 
to  wear,  copy-books  with  copies  at  the  top  of  the 
page,  a  pencil  for  each,  a  pocket-knife  for  each. 
And  there  was  an  excellent  book  for  herself,  she 
had.  "  Look,  with  my  name  in  and  all.  A  prayer- 
book."  It  was  a  present  from  the  Governor,  by 
way  of  remembrance. 

Isak  admired  each  thing  in  silence.  She  took  out 
a  bundle  of  little  collars  —  Leopoldine's,  they  were. 
And  gave  Isak  a  black  neckerchief  for  himself,  shiny 
as  silk. 

"  Is  that  for  me?  "  said  he. 

"  Yes,  it's  for  you." 

He  took  it  carefully  in  his  hands,  and  stroked  it. 

"  Do  you  think  it's  nice?  " 

"  Nice  —  why  I  could  go  round  the  world  in 
such." 

But  Isak's  fingers  were  rough;  they  stuck  in  the 
curious  silky  stuff. 

Now  Inger  had  no  more  things  to  show.  But 
when  she  had  packed  them  all  up  again,  she  sat  there 
still;  and  the  way  she  sat,  he  could  see  her  legs, 
could  see  her  red-bordered  stockings. 

158 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"H'm,"  said  he.  "  Those'll  be  town-made 
things,  I  doubt?" 

"  'Tis  wool  was  bought  in  the  town,  but  I  knitted 
them  myself.  They're  ever  so  long  —  right  up 
above  the  knee  —  look.  .  .  ." 

A  little  while  after  she  heard  herself  whispering: 
11  Oh,  you  .  .  .  you're  just  the  same  • —  the  same 
as  ever!  " 

And  after  that  halt  they  drove  on  again,  and  Inger 
sat  up,  holding  the  reins.  "  I've  brought  a  paper  of 
coffee  too,"  she  said.  "  But  you  can't  have  any  this 
evening,  for  it's  not  roasted  yet." 

"  'Tis  more  than's  needed  this  evening  and  all," 
said  he. 

An  hour  later  the  sun  goes  down,  and  it  grows 
colder.  Inger  gets  down  to  walk.  Together  they 
tuck  the  rug  closer  about  Leopoldine,  and  smile  to 
see  how  soundly  she  can  sleep.  Man  and  wife  talk 
together  again  on  their  way.  A  pleasure  it  is  to 
hear  Inger's  voice;  none  could  speak  clearer  than 
Inger  now. 

"  Wasn't  it  four  cows  we  had?  "  she  asks. 

'Tis    more    than     that,"     says     he    proudly. 
11  We've  eight." 

"Eight  cows  I" 

"  That  is  to  say,  counting  the  bull." 

"  Have  you  sold  any  butter?  " 

"  Ay,  and  eggs." 

''  What,  have  we  chickens  now?  " 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  Ay,  of  course  we  have.     And  a  pig." 

Inger  is  so  astonished  at  all  this  that  she  forgets 
herself  altogether,  and  stops  for  a  moment  • — 
"  Ptro!"  And  Isak  is  proud  and  keeps  on,  trying 
to  overwhelm  her  completely. 

"That  Geissler,"  he  says,  "you  remember  him? 
He  came  up  a  little  while  back." 

"Oh?" 

"  I've  sold  him  a  copper  mine." 

"  Ho !     What's  that  —  a  copper  mine?  " 

"  Copper,  yes.  Up  in  the  hills,  all  along  the 
north  side  of  the  water." 

'  You  —  you  don't  mean  he  paid  you  money  for 
it?" 

"  Ay,  that  he  did.  Geissler  he  wouldn't  buy 
things  and  not  pay  for  them." 

"  What  did  you  get,  then?  " 

"  H'm.  Well,  you  might  not  believe  it  —  but  it 
was  two  hundred  Daler." 

'  You  got  two  hundred  Daler! "  shouts  Inger, 
stopping  again  with  a  "  Ptro!  " 

"  I  did  —  yes.  And  I've  paid  for  my  land  a  long 
while  back,"  said  Isak. 

"  Well  —  you  are  a  wonder,  you  are !  " 

Truly,  it  was  a  pleasure  to  see  Inger  all  surprised, 
and  make  her  a  rich  wife.  Isak  did  not  forget  to 
add  that  he  had  no  debts  nor  owings  at  the  store  or 
anywhere  else.  And  he  had  not  only  Geissler's  two 
hundred  untouched,  but  more  than  that  —  a  hun- 
dred and  sixty  Daler  more.  Ay,  they  might  well  be 
thankful  to  God ! 

1 60 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

They  spoke  of  Geissler  again;  Inger  was  able  to 
tell  how  he  had  helped  to  get  her  set  free.  It  had 
not  been  an  easy  matter  for  him,  after  all,  it  seemed; 
he  had  been  a  long  time  getting  the  matter  through, 
and  had  called  on  the  Governor  ever  so  many  times. 
Geissler  had  also  written  to  some  of  the  State  Coun- 
cillors, or  some  other  high  authorities;  but  this  he 
had  done  behind  the  Governor's  back,  and  when  the 
Governor  heard  of  it  he  was  furious,  which  was 
not  surprising.  But  Geissler  was  not  to  be  fright- 
ened; he  demanded  a  revision  of  the  case,  new  trial, 
new  examination,  and  everything.  And  after  that 
the  King  had  to  sign. 

Ex-Lensmand  Geissler  had  always  been  a  good 
friend  to  them  both,  and  they  had  often  wondered 
why;  he  got  nothing  out  of  it  but  their  poor  thanks 
—  it  was  more  than  they  could  understand.  Inger 
had  spoken  with  him  in  Trondhjem,  and  could  not 
make  him  out.  "  He  doesn't  seem  to  care  a  bit 
about  any  in  the  village  but  us,"  she  explained. 

"Did  he  say  so?" 

"  Yes.  He's  furious  with  the  village  here. 
He'd  show  them,  he  said." 

"Ho!" 

"  And  they'd  find  out  one  day,  and  be  sorry  they'd 
lost  him,  he  said." 

They  reached  the  fringe  of  the  wood,  and  came 
in  sight  of  their  home.  There  were  more  buildings 
there  than  before,  and  all  nicely  painted.  Inger 
hardly  knew  the  place  again,  and  stopped  dead. 

161 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  You  —  you  don't  say  that's  our  place  • —  all 
that?  "  she  exclaimed. 

Little  Leopoldine  woke  at  last  and  sat  up,  thor- 
oughly rested  now;  they  lifted  her  out  and  let  her 
walk. 

"Are  we  there  now?  "  she  asked. 

"  Yes.     Isn't  it  a  pretty  place?  " 

There  were  small  figures  moving,  over  by  the 
house;  it  was  Eleseus  and  Sivert,  keeping  watch. 
Now  they  came  running  up.  Inger  was  seized  with 
a  sudden  cold  —  a  dreadful  cold  in  the  head,  with 
sniffing  and  coughing  —  even  her  eyes  were  all  red 
and  watering  too.  It  always  gives  one  a  dreadful 
cold  on  board  ship  —  makes  one's  eyes  wet  and  alll 

But  when  the  boys  came  nearer  they  stopped  run- 
ning all  of  a  sudden  and  stared.  They  had  forgot- 
ten what  their  mother  looked  like,  and  little  sister 
they  had  never  seen.  But  father  —  they  didn't 
know  him  at  all  till  he  came  quite  close.  He  had 
cut  off  his  heavy  beard. 


162 


Chapter  XII 


ALL  is  well  now. 
Isak  sows  his  oats,  harrows,  and  rolls  it 
in.     Little  Leopoldine  comes  and  wants  to 
sit  on  the  roller.     Sit  on  a  roller?  —  nay,  she's  all 
too  little  and  unknowing  for  that  yet.     Her  brothers 
know  better.     There's  no  seat  on  father's  roller. 

But  father  thinks  it  fine  and  a  pleasure  to  see  little 
Leopoldine  coming  up  so  trustingly  to  him  already; 
he  talks  to  her,  and  shows  her  how  to  walk  nicely 
over  the  fields,  and  not  get  her  shoes  full  of  earth. 

"  And  what's  that  —  why,  if  you  haven't  a  blue 
frock  on  today  —  come,  let  me  see ;  ay,  'tis  blue,  so 
it  is.  And  a  belt  round  and  all.  Remember  when 
you  came  on  the  big  ship  ?  And  the  engines  —  did 
you  see  them  ?  That's  right  —  and  now  run  home 
to  the  boys  again,  they'll  find  you  something  to  play 
with." 

Oline  is  gone,  and  Inger  has  taken  up  her  old 
work  once  more,  in  house  and  yard.  She  overdoes 
it  a  little,  maybe,  in  cleanliness  and  order,  just  by 
way  of  showing  that  she  was  going  to  have  things 
differently  now.  And  indeed  it  was  wonderful  to 
see  what  a  change  was  made ;  even  the  glass  windows 
in  the  old  turf  hut  were  cleaned,  and  the  boxes  swept 
out. 

163 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

But  it  was  only  the  first  days,  the  first  week;  after 
that  she  began  to  be  less  eager  about  the  work. 
There  was  really  no  need  to  take  all  that  trouble 
about  cowsheds  and  things;  she  could  make  better 
use  of  her  time  now.  Inger  had  learned  a  deal 
among  the  town  folk,  and  it  would  be  a  pity  not  to 
turn  it  to  account.  She  took  to  her  spinning-wheel 
and  loom  again  —  true  enough,  she  was  even 
quicker  and  neater  than  before  —  a  trifle  too  quick 
—  hut!  —  especially  when  Isak  was  looking  on;  he 
couldn't  make  out  how  any  one  could  learn  to  use 
their  fingers  that  way  —  the  fine  long  fingers  she  had 
to  her  big  hands.  But  Inger  had  a  way  of  drop- 
ping one  piece  of  work  to  take  up  another,  all  in  a 
moment.  Well,  well,  there  were  more  things  to 
be  looked  to  now  than  before,  and  maybe  she  was 
not  altogether  so  patient  as  she  had  been;  a  trifle  of 
unrest  had  managed  to  creep  in. 

First  of  all  there  were  the  flowers  she  had  brought 
with  her  —  bulbs  and  cuttings;  little  lives  these  too, 
that  must  be  thought  of.  The  glass  window  was  too 
small,  the  ledge  too  narrow  to  set  flower-pots  on; 
and  besides,  she  had  no  flower-pots.  Isak  must 
make  some  tiny  boxes  for  begonias,  fuchsias,  and 
roses.  Also,  one  window  was  not  enough  —  fancy 
a  room  with  only  one  window ! 

And,  "  Oh,  by  the  way,"  said  Inger,  "  I  want  an 
iron,  you  know.  There  isn't  one  in  the  place.  I 
could  use  a  flat  iron  for  pressing  when  I'm  sewing 
dresses  and  things,  but  you  can't  do  proper  work 
without  an  iron  of  some  sort." 

164 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Isak  promised  to  get  the  blacksmith  down  at  the 
village  to  make  a  first-rate  pressing-iron.  Oh,  Isak 
was  ready  to  do  anything,  do  all  that  she  asked  in 
every  way;  for  he  could  see  well  enough  that  Inger 
had  learned  a  heap  of  things  now,  and  matchless 
clever  she  was  grown.  She  spoke,  too,  in  a  differ- 
ent way,  a  little  finer,  using  elegant  words.  She 
never  shouted  out  to  him  now  as  she  used  to :  "  Come 
and  get  your  food!  "  but  would  say  instead:  "  Din- 
ner's ready,  if  you  please."  Everything  was  differ- 
ent now.  In  the  old  days  he  would  answer  simply 
"  Ay,"  or  say  nothing  at  all,  and  go  on  working 
for  a  bit  before  he  came.  Now,  he  said  "  Thanks," 
and  went  in  at  once.  Love  makes  the  wise  a  fool: 
now  and  then  Isak  would  say  "  Thanks,  thanks." 
Ay,  all  was  different  now  —  maybe  a  trifle  too  fine 
in  some  ways.  When  Isak  spoke  of  dung,  and  was 
rough  in  his  speech,  as  peasants  are,  Inger  would 
call  it  manure,  "  for  the  sake  of  the  children,  you 
know." 

She  was  careful  with  the  children,  and  taught  them 
everything,  educated  them.  Let  tiny  Leopoldine  go 
on  quickly  with  her  crochet  work,  and  the  boys  with 
writing  and  schooling;  they  would  not  be  altogether 
behindhand  when  the  time  came  for  them  to  go  to 
school  in  the  village.  Eleseus  in  particular  was 
grown  a  clever  one,  but  little  Sivert  was  nothing 
much,  if  the  truth  must  be  told  —  a  madcap,  a  jack- 
anapes. He  even  ventured  to  screw  a  little  at 
Mother's  sewing-machine,  and  had  already  hacked 
off  splinters  from  table  and  chairs  with  his  new 

165 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

pocket-knife.  Inger  had  threatened  to  take  it  away 
altogether. 

The  children,  of  course,  had  all  the  animals  about 
the  place,  and  Eleseus  had  still  his  coloured  pencil 
besides.  He  used  it  very  carefully,  and  rarely  lent 
it  to  his  brother,  but  for  all  that  the  walls  were 
covered  with  blue  and  red  drawings  as  time  went  on, 
and  the  pencil  got  smaller  and  smaller.  At  last 
Eleseus  was  simply  forced  to  put  Sivert  on  rations 
with  it,  lending  him  the  pencil  on  Sunday  only,  for 
one  drawing.  Sivert  was  not  pleased  with  the  ar- 
rangement, but  Eleseus  was  a  fellow  who  would 
stand  no  nonsense.  Not  so  much  as  being  the 
stronger,  but  he  had  longer  arms,  and  could  man- 
age better  when  it  came  to  a  quarrel. 

But  that  Sivert !  Now  and  again  he  would  come 
across  a  bird's  nest  in  the  woods;  once  he  talked 
about  a  mouse-hole  he  had  found,  and  made  a  lot  of 
that;  another  time  it  was  a  great  fish  as  big  as  a 
man,  he  had  seen  in  the  river.  But  it  was  all  evi- 
dently his  own  invention;  he  was  somewhat  inclined 
to  make  black  into  white,  was  Sivert,  but  a  good  sort 
for  all  that.  When  the  cat  had  kittens,  it  was  he 
who  brought  her  milk,  because  she  hissed  too  much 
for  Eleseus.  Sivert  was  never  tired  of  standing 
looking  at  the  box  full  of  movement,  a  nest  of 
tumbling  furry  paws. 

The  chickens,  too,  he  noticed  every  day:  the  cock 
with  his  lordly  carriage  and  fine  feathers,  the  hens 
tripping  about  chattering  low,  and  pecking  at  the 

166 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

sand,  or  screaming  out  as  if  terribly  hurt  every  time 
they  had  laid  an  egg. 

And  there  was  the  big  wether.  Little  Sivert  had 
read  a  good  deal  to  what  he  knew  before,  but  he 
could  not  say  of  the  wether  that  the  beast  had  a 
fine  Roman  nose,  begad!  That  he  could  not  say. 
But  he  could  do  better  than  that.  He  knew 
the  wether  from  the  day  when  it  had  been 
a  lamb,  he  understood  it  and  was  one  with  it  —  a 
kinsman,  a  fellow-creature.  Once,  a  strange  prim- 
itive impression  flickered  through  his  senses:  it  was 
a  moment  he  never  forgot.  The  wether  was  graz- 
ing quietly  in  the  field;  suddenly  it  threw  up  its  head, 
stopped  munching,  simply  stood  there  looking  out. 
Sivert  looked  involuntarily  in  the  same  direction. 
No —  nothing  remarkable.  But  Sivert  himself  felt 
something  strange  within  him :  "  'Tis  most  as  if  he 
stood  looking  into  the  garden  of  Eden,"  he  thought. 

There  were  the  cows, —  the  children  had  each  a 
couple, —  great  sailing  creatures,  so  friendly  and 
tame  that  they  let  themselves  be  caught  whenever 
you  liked;  let  human  children  pat  them.  There  was 
the  pig,  white  and  particular  about  its  person  when 
decently  looked  after,  listening  to  every  sound,  a 
comical  fellow,  always  eager  for  food,  and  ticklish 
and  fidgety  as  a  girl.  And  there  was  the  billy-goat; 
there  was  always  one  old  billy-goat  at  Sellanraa,  for 
as  soon  as  one  died  another  was  ready  to  take  his 
place.  And  was  there  ever  anything  so  solemnly 
ridiculous  to  look  at?  Just  now  he  had  a  whole 

167 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

lot  of  goats  to  look  after,  but  at  times  he  would 
get  sick  and  tired  of  them  all,  and  lie  down,  a 
bearded,  thoughtful  spectacle,  a  veritable  Father 
Abraham.  And  then  in  a  moment,  up  again  and 
off  after  the  flock.  He  always  left  a  trail  of  sourish 
air  behind  him. 

The  daily  round  of  the  farm  goes  on.  Now  and 
again  a  traveller  comes  by,  on  his  way  up  to  the 
hills,  and  asks:  "  And  how's  all  with  ye  here?  " 
And  Isak  answers:  "  Ay,  thank  ye  kindly." 
Isak  works  and  works,  consulting  the  almanac  for 
all  that  he  does,  notes  the  changes  of  the  moon,  pays 
heed  to  the  signs  of  the  weather,  and  works  on.  He 
has  beaten  out  so  much  of  a  track  down  to  the  vil- 
lage that  he  can  drive  in  now  with  horse  and  cart, 
but  for  the  most  part,  he  carries  his  load  himself; 
carries  loads  of  cheese  or  hides,  and  bark  and  resin, 
and  butter  and  eggs;  all  things  he  can  sell,  to  bring 
back  other  wares  instead.  No,  in  the  summer  he 
does  not  often  drive  down  —  for  one  thing,  because 
the  road  down  from  Breidablik,  the  last  part  of  the 
way,  is  so  badly  kept.  He  has  asked  Brede  Olsen 
to  help  with  the  upkeep  of  the  road,  and  do  his 
share.  Brede  Olsen  promises,  but  does  not  hold 
to  his  word.  And  Isak  will  not  ask  him  again. 
Rather  carry  a  load  on  his  back  himself.  And  In- 
ger  says:  "  I  can't  understand  how  you  ever  man- 
fcge  it  all."  Oh,  but  he  could  manage  anything. 
He  had  a  pair  of  boots,  so  unimaginably  heavy  and 
thick,  with  great  slabs  of  iron  on  the  soles,  even  the 

168 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

straps  were  fastened  with  copper  nails  —  it  was  a 
marvel  that  one  man  could  walk  in  such  boots  at  all. 

On  one  of  his  journeys  down,  he  came  upon  sev- 
eral gangs  of  men  at  work  on  the  moors;  putting 
down  stone  sockets  and  fixing  telegraph  poles. 
Some  of  them  are  from  the  village,  Brede  Olsen 
is  there  too,  for  all  that  he  has  taken  up  land  of  his 
own  and  ought  to  be  working  on  that.  Isak  won- 
ders that  Brede  can  find  time. 

The  foreman  asks  if  Isak  can  sell  them  telegraph 
poles.  Isak  says  no.  Not  if  he's  well  paid  for 
them  ?  —  No. —  Oh,  Isak  was  grown  a  thought 
quicker  in  his  dealings  now,  he  could  say  no.  If  he 
sold  them  a  few  poles,  to  be  sure  it  would  be  money 
in  his  pockets,  so  many  Daler  more ;  but  he  had  no 
timber  to  spare,  there  was  nothing  gained  by  that. 
The  engineer  in  charge  comes  up  himself  to  ask,  but 
Isak  refuses. 

'  We've  poles  enough,"  says  the  engineer,  "  but 
it  would  be  easier  to  take  them  from  your  ground  up 
there,  and  save  transport." 

"  I've  no  timber  to  spare  myself,"  says  Isak.  "  I 
want  to  get  up  a  bit  of  a  saw  and  do  some  cutting; 
there's  some  more  buildings  I'll  need  to  have  ready 
soon." 

Here  Brede  Olsen  put  in  a  word,  and  says:  "  If  I 
was  you,  Isak,  I'd  sell  them  poles." 

For  all  his  patience,  Isak  gave  Brede  a  look  and 
said:  "  Ay,  I  dare  say  you  would." 

"  Well  —  what?  "  asks  Brede. 

"  Only  that  I'm  not  you,"  said  Isak. 
169 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Some  of  the  workmen  chuckled  a  little  at  this. 

Ay,  Isak  had  reason  enough  just  then  to  put  his 
neighbour  down;  that  very  day  he  had  seen  three 
sheep  in  the  fields  at  Breidablik,  and  one  of  them  he 
knew  —  the  one  with  the  flat  ears  that  Oline  had 
bartered  away.  He  may  keep  it,  thought  Isak,  as 
he  went  on  his  way;  Brede  and  his  woman  may  get 
all  the  sheep  they  want,  for  me ! 

That  business  of  the  saw  was  always  in  his 
thoughts ;  it  was  as  he  had  said.  Last  winter,  when 
the  roads  were  hard,  he  had  carted  up  the  big  cir- 
cular blade  and  the  fittings,  ordered  from  Trondh- 
jem  through  the  village  store.  The  parts  were 
lying  in  one  of  the  sheds  now,  well  smeared  with 
oil  to  keep  off  the  rust.  He  had  brought  up  some 
of  the  beams  too,  for  the  framework ;  he  could  begin 
building  when  he  pleased,  but  he  put  it  off.  What 
could  it  be?  was  he  beginning  to  grow  slack,  was  he 
wearing  out?  He  could  not  understand  it  himself. 
It  would  have  been  no  surprise  to  others,  perhaps, 
but  Isak  could  not  believe  it.  Was  his  head  going? 
He  had  never  been  afraid  of  taking  up  a  piece  of 
work  before;  he  must  have  changed  somehow,  since 
the  time  when  he  had  built  his  mill  across  a  river 
just  as  big.  He  could  get  in  help  from  the  village, 
but  he  would  try  again  alone;  he  would  start  in  a 
day  or  so  —  and  Inger  could  lend  him  a  hand. 

He  spoke  to  Inger  about  it. 

"  Hm.  I  don't  know  if  you  could  find  time  one 
of  these  days  to  lend  a  hand  with  that  sawmill?  " 

Inger  thought  for  a  moment.  'Ye  —  s,  if  I  can 
170 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

manage  it.     So  you're  going  to  set  up  a  sawmill?  " 

"  Ay,  'tis  my  intention  so.  I've  worked  it  all  out 
in  my  head." 

"  Will  that  be  harder  than  the  mill  was?  " 

"  Much  harder,  ten  times  as  hard.  Why,  it's  all 
got  to  be  as  close  and  exact  —  down  to  the  tiniest 
line,  and  the  saw  itself  exactly  midways." 

"  If  only  you  can  manage  it,"  said  Inger  thought- 
lessly. 

Isak  was  offended,  and  answered,  "  As  to  that,  we 
shall  see." 

"  Couldn't  you  get  a  man  to  help  you,  some  one 
that  knows  the  work?  " 

"  No." 

;<  Well,  then,  you  won't  be  able  to  manage  it," 
said  she  again. 

Isak  put  up  his  hand  to  his  hair  —  it  was  like  a 
bear  lifting  his  paw. 

"  'Twas  just  that  I've  been  fearing,"   said  he. 
'  That  I  might  not  manage  it.     And  that's  why  I 
wanted  you  that's  learned  so  much  to  help  me." 

That  was  one  to  the  bear.  But  nothing  gained 
after  all.  Inger  tossed  her  head  and  turned  aside 
unkindly,  and  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  his 
saw. 

11  Well,  then "  said  Isak. 

"  Why,  do  you  want  me  to  stand  getting  drenched 
in  the  river  and  have  me  laid  up?  And  who's  to  do 
all  the  sewing,  and  look  to  the  animals  and  keep 
house,  and  all  the  rest?  " 

"  No,  that's  true,"  said  Isak. 
171 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Oh,  but  it  was  only  the  four  corner  posts  and  the 
middle  ones  for  the  two  long  sides  he  wanted  help 
with,  that  was  all.  Inger  —  was  she  really  grown 
so  different  in  her  heart  through  living  among  folk 
from  the  towns? 

The  fact  was  that  Inger  had  changed  a  good  deal; 
she  thought  now  less  of  their  common  good  than  of 
herself.  She  had  taken  loom  and  wheel  into  use 
again,  but  the  sewing  machine  was  more  to  her  taste ; 
and  when  the  pressing-iron  came  up  from  the  black- 
smith's, she  was  ready  to  set  up  as  a  fully-trained 
dressmaker.  She  had  a  profession  now.  She  be- 
gan by  making  a  couple  of  little  frocks  for  Leo- 
poldine.  Isak  thought  them  pretty,  and  praised 
them,  maybe,  a  thought  too  much ;  Inger  hinted  that 
it  was  nothing  to  what  she  could  do  when  she  tried. 

"  But  they're  too  short,"  said  Isak. 
4  They're  worn  that  way  in  town,"  said  Inger. 
"  You  know  nothing  about  it." 

Isak  saw  he  had  gone  too  far,  and,  to  make  up 
for  it,  said  something  about  getting  some  material 
for  Inger  herself,  for  something  or  other. 

"  For  a  cloak?  "  said  Inger. 

"  Ay,  or  what  you'd  like." 

Inger  agreed  to  have  something  for  a  cloak,  and 
described  the  sort  of  stuff  she  wanted. 

But  when  she  had  made  the  cloak,  she  had  to  find 
some  one  to  show  it  to;  accordingly,  when  the  boys 
went  down  to  the  village  to  be  put  to  school,  Inger 
herself  went  with  them.  And  that  journey  might 
have  seemed  a  little  thing,  but  it  left  its  mark. 

172 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

They  came  first  of  all  to  Breidablik,  and  the 
Breidablik  woman  and  her  children  came  out  to  see 
who  it  was  going  by.  There  sat  Inger  and  the  two 
boys,  driving  down  lordly-wise  —  the  boys  on  their 
way  to  school,  nothing  less,  and  Inger  wearing  a 
cloak.  The  Breidablik  woman  felt  a  sting  at  the 
sight ;  the  cloak  she  could  have  done  without  — 
thank  heaven,  she  set  no  store  by  such  foolishness! 
—  but  .  .  .  she  had  children  of  her  own  —  Barbro, 
a  great  girl  already,  Helge,  the  next,  and  Kathrine, 
all  of  an  age  for  school.  The  two  eldest  had  been 
to  school  before,  when  they  lived  down  in  the  village, 
but  after  moving  up  to  Breidablik,  to  an  out-of-the- 
way  place  up  on  the  moors,  they  had  been  forced  to 
give  it  up,  and  let  the  children  run  heathen  again. 

"  You'll  be  wanting  a  bite  for  the  boys,  maybe," 
said  the  woman. 

"  Food?  Do  you  see  this  chest  here?  It's  my 
travelling  trunk,  that  I  brought  home  with  me  — 
I've  that  full  of  food." 

"  And  what'll  be  in  it  of  sorts?  " 

"What  sorts?  I've  meat  and  pork  in  plenty, 
and  bread  and  butter  and  cheese  besides." 

"  Ay,  you've  no  lack  up  at  Sellanraa,"  said  the 
other;  and  her  poor,  sallow-faced  children  listened 
with  eyes  and  ears  to  this  talk  of  rich  things  to  eat. 
"And  where  will  they  be  staying?"  asked  the 
mother. 

"  At  the  blacksmith's,"  said  Inger. 

"  Ho !  "  said  the  other.    "  Ay,  mine'll  be  going  to 

173 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

school    again   soon.     They'll   stay  with   the   Lens- 
mand." 

"Ho!"  saidlnger. 

"  Ay,  or  at  the  doctor's,  maybe,  or  at  the  par- 
sonage. Brede  he's  in  with  the  great  folks  there,  of 
course." 

Inger  fumbled  with  her  cloak,  and  managed  to 
turn  it  so  that  a  bit  of  black  silk  fringe  appeared  to 
advantage. 

'Where  did  you  get  the  cloak?"  asked  the 
woman.  "  One  you  had  with  you,  maybe?  " 

"  I  made  it  myself." 

"  Ay,  ay,  'tis  as  I  said:  wealth  and  riches  full  and 
running  over.  .  .  ." 

Inger  drove  on,  feeling  all  set  up  and  pleased 
with  herself,  and,  coming  into  the  village,  she  may 
have  been  a  trifle  overproud  in  her  bearing.  Lens- 
mand  Heyerdahl's  lady  was  not  pleased  at  the  sight 
of  that  cloak;  the  Sellanraa  woman  was  forgetting 
her  place  —  forgetting  where  it  was  she  had  come 
from  after  five  years'  absence.  But  Inger  had  at 
least  a  chance  of  showing  off  her  cloak,  and  the 
storekeeper's  wife  and  the  blacksmith's  wife  and  the 
schoolmaster's  wife  all  thought  of  getting  one  like 
it  for  themselves  —  but  it  could  wait  a  bit. 

And  now  it  was  not  long  before  Inger  began  to 
have  visitors.  One  or  two  women  came  across  from 
the  other  side  of  the  hills,  out  of  curiosity.  Oline 
had  perhaps  chanced  to  say  something  against  her 
will,  to  this  one  or  that.  Those  who  came  now 

174 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

brought  news  from  Inger's  own  birthplace;  what 
more  natural  than  that  Inger  should  give  them  a 
cup  of  coffee,  and  let  them  look  at  her  sewing- 
machine!  Young  girls  came  up  in  pairs  from  the 
coast,  from  the  village,  to  ask  Inger's  advice ;  it  was 
autumn  now,  and  they  had  been  saving  up  for  a 
hew  dress,  and  wanted  her  to  help  them.  Inger,  of 
course,  would  know  all  about  the  latest  fashions, 
after  being  out  in  the  world,  and  now  and  again 
she  would  do  a  little  cutting  out.  Inger  herself 
brightened  up  at  these  visits,  and  was  glad;  kindly 
and  helpful  she  was  too,  and  clever  at  the  work,  be- 
sides; she  could  cut  out  material  without  a  pattern. 
Sometimes  she  would  even  hem  a  whole  length  on 
her  machine,  and  all  for  nothing,  and  give  the  stuff 
back  to  the  girls  with  a  delightful  jest:  "  There  — 
now  you  can  sew  the  buttons  on  yourself!  " 

Later  in  the  year  Inger  was  sent  for  down  to  the 
village,  to  do  dressmaking  for  some  of  the  great 
folks  there.  Inger  could  not  go;  she  had  a  house- 
hold to  look  after,  and  animals  besides,  all  the  work 
of  the  home,  and  she  had  no  servant. 

Had  no  what?     Servant! 

She  spoke  to  Isak  one  day. 

"  If  only  I  had  some  one  to  help  me,  I  could  put 
in  more  time  sewing." 

Isak  did  not  understand.     "  Help?  " 

"  Yes,  help  in  the  house  —  a  servant-girl." 

Isak  must  have  been  taken   aback   at  this;   he 

175 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

laughed  a  little  in  his  iron  beard,  and  took  it  as  a 
jest.  "  Ay,  we  should  have  a  servant-girl,"  said  he. 

"  Housewives  in  the  towns  always  have  a  ser- 
vant," said  Inger. 

"Ho!"saidlsak. 

Well,  Isak  was  not  perhaps  in  the  best  of  humour 
just  then,  not  exactly  gentle  and  content,  no,  for  he 
had  started  work  on  that  sawmill,  and  it  was  a  slow 
and  toilsome  business;  he  couldn't  hold  the  baulks 
with  one  hand,  and  a  level  in  the  other,  and  fix  ends 
at  the  same  time.  But  when  the  boys  came  back 
from  school  again  it  was  easier;  the  lads  were  useful 
and  a  help,  bless  them!  Sivert  especially  had  a 
genius  for  knocking  in  nails,  but  Eleseus  was  better 
at  handling  a  plumb-line.  By  the  end  of  a  week, 
Isak  and  the  boys  had  actually  got  the  foundation 
posts  in,  and  soundly  fixed  with  stretcher  pieces  as 
thick  as  the  beams  themselves. 

It  worked  out  all  right  —  everything  worked  out 
all  right  somehow.  But  Isak  was  beginning  to  feel 
tired  in  the  evenings  now  —  whatever  it  could  be. 
It  was  not  only  building  a  sawmill  and  getting  that 
done  —  there  was  everything  else  besides.  The 
hay  was  in,  but  the  corn  was  standing  yet,  soon  it 
would  have  to  be  cut  and  stacked;  there  were  the 
potatoes  too,  they  would  have  to  be  taken  up  before 
long.  But  the  boys  were  a  wonderful  help.  He 
did  not  thank  them;  'twas  not  the  way  among  folk 
of  their  sort,  but  he  was  mightily  pleased  with  them 
for  all  that.  Now  and  again  they  would  sit  down  in 
the  middle  of  their  work  and  talk  together,  the 
father  almost  asking  his  sons'  advice  as  to  what  they 

176 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

should  do  next.  Those  were  proud  moments  for  the 
lads,  they  learned  also  to  think  well  before  they 
spoke,  lest  they  should  be  in  the  wrong. 

"  'Twould  be  a  pity  not  to  have  the  saw  roofed 
in  before  the  autumn  rains,"  said  their  father. 

If  only  Inger  had  been  as  in  the  old  days !  But 
Inger  was  not  so  strong  as  she  had  been,  it  seemed, 
and  that  was  natural  enough  after  her  long  spell 
within  walls.  That  her  mind,  too,  seemed  changed 
was  another  matter.  Strange,  how  little  thought, 
how  little  care,  she  seemed  to  take  now;  shallow  and 
heedless  —  was  this  Inger?" 

One  day  she  spoke  of  the  child  she  had  killed. 

"  And  a  fool  I  was  to  do  it,"  she  said.  "  We 
might  have  had  her  mouth  sewed  up  too,  and  then  I 
needn't  have  throttled  her"  And  she  never  stole 
off  now  to  a  tiny  grave  in  the  forest,  where  once  she 
had  patted  the  earth  with  her  hands  and  set  up  a 
little  cross. 

But  Inger  was  not  altogether  heartless  yet;  she 
cared  for  her  other  children,  kept  them  clean  and 
made  new  clothes  for  them;  she  would  sit  up  late  at 
night  mending  their  things.  It  was  her  ambition  to 
see  them  get  on  in  the  world. 

The  corn  was  stacked,  and  the  potatoes  were 
taken  up.  Then  came  the  winter.  No,  the  sawmill 
did  not  get  roofed  in  that  autumn,  but  that  could  not 
be  helped  —  after  all,  'twas  not  a  matter  of  life  or 
death.  Next  summer  would  be  time  and  means 
enough. 


177 


Chapter  XIII 


THE  winter  round  of  work  was  as  before; 
carting  wood,  mending  tools  and  imple- 
ments. Inger  kept  house,  and  did  sewing 
in  her  spare  time.  The  boys  were  down  in  the  vil- 
lage again  for  the  long  term  at  school.  For  several 
winters  past  they  had  had  a  pair  of  ski  between 
them;  they  managed  well  enough  that  way  as  long 
as  they  were  at  home,  one  waiting  while  the  other 
took  his  turn,  or  one  standing  on  behind  the  other. 
Ay,  they  managed  finely  with  but  one  pair,  it  was  the 
finest  thing  they  knew,  and  they  were  innocent  and 
glad.  But  down  in  the  village  things  were  different. 
The  school  was  full  of  ski;  even  the  children  at 
Breidablik,  it  seemed,  had  each  a  pair.  And  the 
end  of  it  was  that  Isak  had  to  make  a  new  pair  for 
Eleseus,  Sivert  keeping  the  old  pair  for  his  own. 

Isak  did  more;  he  had  the  boys  well  clad,  and 
gave  them  everlasting  boots.  But  when  that  was 
done,  Isak  went  to  the  storekeeper  and  asked  for  a 
ring. 

"  A  ring?  "  said  the  man. 

"  A  finger  ring.  Ay,  I've  grown  that  high  and 
mighty  now  I  must  give  my  wife  a  ring." 

"  Do  you  want  a  silver  one,  or  gold,  or  just  a 
brass  ring  dipped  to  look  like  gold?" 

178 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  Let's  say  a  silver  ring." 

The  storekeeper  thought  for  a  while. 

"  Look  you,  Isak,"  he  said.  "  If  you  want  to  do 
the  proper  thing,  and  give  your  wife  a  ring  she 
needn't  be  ashamed  to  wear,  you'd  better  make  it  a 
gold  ring." 

"What!"  said  Isak  aloud.  Though  maybe  in 
his  inmost  heart  he  had  been  thinking  of  a  gold  ring 
all  the  time. 

They  talked  the  matter  over  seriously,  and  agreed 
about  getting  a  measurement  of  some  sort  for  the 
ring.  Isak  was  thoughtful,  and  shook  his  head  and 
reckoned  it  was  a  big  thing  to  do,  but  the  storekeeper 
refused  to  order  anything  but  a  gold  ring.  Isak 
went  home  again,  secretly  pleased  with  his  decision, 
but  somewhat  anxious,  for  all  that,  at  the  extrava- 
gant lengths  he  had  gone  to,  all  for  being  in  love 
with  his  wife. 

There  was  a  good  average  snowfall  that  winter, 
and  early  in  the  year,  when  the  roads  were  passable, 
folk  from  the  village  began  carting  up  telegraph 
poles  over  the  moors,  dropping  their  loads  at  regular 
intervals.  They  drove  big  teams,  and  came  up  past 
Breidablik,  past  Sellanraa  farm,  and  met  new  teams 
beyond,  coming  down  with  poles  from  the  other  side 
of  the  hills  —  the  line  was  complete. 

So  life  went  on  day  by  day,  without  any  great 
event.  What  was  there  to  happen,  anyway? 
Spring  came,  and  the  work  of  setting  up  the  poles 
began.  Brede  Olsen  was  there  again,  with  the 
gangs,  though  he  should  have  been  working  on  his 

179 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

own  land  at  that  season.  "  'Tis  a  wonder  he's  the 
time,"  thought  Isak. 

Isak  himself  had  barely  time  to  eat  and  sleep;  it 
was  a  close  thing  to  get  through  the  season's  work 
now,  with  all  the  land  he  had  brought  under  tillage. 

Then,  between  seasons,  he  got  his  sawmill  roofed 
in,  and  could  set  to  work  putting  up  the  machine 
parts.  And  look  you,  'twas  no  marvel  of  fine  wood- 
work he  had  set  up,  but  strong  it  was,  as  a  giant  of 
the  hills,  and  stood  there  to  good  use.  The  saw 
could  work,  and  cut  as  a  sawmill  should;  Isak  had 
kept  his  eyes  about  him  down  in  the  village,  and 
used  them  well.  It  was  hearty  and  small,  this  saw- 
mill he  had  built,  but  he  was  pleased  with  it;  he 
carved  the  date  above  the  doorway,  and  put  his 
mark. 

And  that  summer,  something  more  than  usual  did 
come  about  after  all  at  Sellenraa. 

The  telegraph  workers  had  now  reached  so  far 
up  over  the  moors  that  the  foremost  gang  came  to 
the  farm  one  evening  and  asked  to  be  lodged  for  the 
night.  They  were  given  shelter  in  the  big  barn. 
As  the  days  went  on,  the  other  gangs  came  along, 
and  all  were  housed  at  Sellanraa.  The  work  went 
on  ahead,  passing  the  farm,  but  the  men  still  came 
back  to  sleep  in  the  barn.  One  Saturday  evening 
came  the  engineer  in  charge,  to  pay  the  men. 

At  sight  of  the  engineer,  Eleseus  felt  his  heart 
jump,  and  stole  out  of  the  house  lest  he  should  be 
asked  about  that  coloured  pencil.  Oh,  there  would 
be  trouble  now  —  and  Sivert  nowhere  to  be  seen ; 

1 80 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

he  would  have  to  face  it  alone.  Eleseus  slipped 
round  the  corner  of  the  house,  like  a  pale  ghost, 
found  his  mother,  and  begged  her  to  tell  Sivert  to 
come.  There  was  no  help  for  it  now. 

Sivert  took  the  matter  less  to  heart  —  but  then, 
he  was  not  the  chief  culprit.  The  two  brothers  went 
a  little  way  off  and  sat  down,  and  Eleseus  said:  "  If 
you'd  say  it  was  you,  now!  " 

"Me?"  said  Sivert. 

'  You're  younger,  he  wouldn't  do  anything  to 
you." 

Sivert  thought  over  it,  and  saw  that  his  brother 
was  in  distress;  also  it  flattered  him  to  feel  that  the 
other  needed  his  help. 

"  Why,  I  might  help  you  out  of  it,  perhaps,"  said 
he  in  a  grown-up  voice. 

"  Ay,  if  you  would !  "  said  Eleseus,  and  quite  sim- 
ply gave  his  brother  the  bit  of  pencil  that  was  left. 
'  You  can  have  it  for  keeps,"  he  said. 

They  were  going  in  again  together,  but  Eleseus 
recollected  he  had  something  he  must  do  over  at 
the  sawmill,  or  rather,  at  the  cornmill ;  something  he 
must  look  to,  and  it  would  take  some  time  —  he 
wouldn't  be  finished  just  yet.  Sivert  went  in  alone. 

There  sat  the  engineer,  paying  out  notes  and 
silver,  and  when  he  had  finished,  Inger  gave  him 
milk  to  drink,  a  jug  and  a  glass,  and  he  thanked  her. 
Then  he  talked  to  little  Leopoldine,  and  then,  notic- 
ing the  drawings  on  the  walls,  asked  straight  out 
who  had  done  that.  "Was  it  you?"  he  asked, 
turning  to  Sivert.  The  man  felt,  perhaps,  he  owed 

181 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

something  for  Inger's  hospitality,  and  praised  the 
drawings  just  to  please  her.  Inger,  on  her  part, 
explained  the  matter  as  it  was:  it  was  her  boys  had 
made  the  drawings  —  both  of  them.  They  had  no 
paper  till  she  came  home  and  looked  to  things,  so 
they  had  marked  all  about  the  walls.  But  she  hadn't 
the  heart  to  wash  it  off  again. 

"  Why,  leave  it  as  it  is,"  said  the  engineer.  "  Pa- 
per, did  you  say?  "  And  he  took  out  a  heap  of  big 
sheets.  "  There,  draw  away  on  that  till  I  come 
round  again.  And  how  are  you  off  for  pencils?  " 

Sivert  stepped  forward  simply  with  the  stump  he 
had,  and  showed  how  small  it  was.  And  behold,  the 
man  gave  him  a  new  coloured  pencil,  not  even  sharp- 
ened. "  There,  now  you  can  sta.rt  afresh.  But  I'd 
make  the  horses  red  if  I  were  you,  and  do  the  goats 
with  blue.  Never  seen  a  blue  horse,  have  you?" 

And  the  engineer  went  on  his  way. 

That  same  evening,  a  man  came  up  from  the  vil- 
lage with  a  basket  —  he  handed  out  some  bottles 
to  the  workmen,  and  went  off  again.  But  after  he 
had  gone,  it  was  no  longer  so  quiet  about  the  place ; 
some  one  played  an  accordion,  the  men  talked  loudly, 
and  there  was  singing,  and  even  dancing,  at  Sellan- 
raa.  One  of  the  men  asked  Inger  out  to  dance,  and 
Inger  —  who  would  have  thought  it  of  her?  —  she 
laughed  a  little  laugh  and  actually  danced  a  few 
turns  round.  After  that,  some  of  the  others  asked 
her,  and  she  danced  not  a  little  in  the  end. 

Inger  —  who  could  say  what  was  in  her  mind? 
Here  she  was  dancing  gaily,  maybe  for  the  first  time 

182 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

in  her  life;  sought  after,  riotously  pursued  by  thirty 
men,  and  she  alone,  the  only  one  to  choose  from,  no 
one  to  cut  her  out.  And  those  burly  telegraph  men 
—  how  they  lifted  her!  Why  not  dance?  Eleseus 
and  Sivert  were  fast  asleep  in  the  little  chamber,  un- 
disturbed by  all  the  noise  outside;  little  Leopoldine 
was  up,  looking  on  wonderingly  at  her  mother  as 
she  danced. 

Isak  was  out  in  the  fields  all  the  time;  he  had  gone 
off  directly  after  supper,  and  when  he  came  home  to 
go  to  bed,  some  one  offered  him  a  bottle.  He  drank 
a  little,  and  sat  watching  the  dancing,  with  Leopold- 
ine on  his  lap. 

"  'Tis  a  gay  time  you're  having,"  said  he  kindly 
to  Inger — "  footing  it  properly  tonight!  " 

After  a  while,  the  music  stopped,  and  the  dance 
was  over.  The  workmen  got  ready  to  leave  — 
they  were  going  down  to  the  village  for  the  rest  of 
the  evening,  and  would  be  there  all  next  day,  com- 
ing back  on  Monday  morning.  Soon  all  was  quiet 
again  at  Sellanraa;  a  couple  of  the  older  men 
stayed  behind,  and  turned  in  to  sleep  in  the  barn. 

Isak  woke  up  in  the  night  —  Inger  was  not  there. 
Could  she  be  gone  to  see  to  the  cows?  He  got  up 
and  went  across  to  the  cowshed.  "Inger!"  he 
called.  No  answer.  The  cows  turned  their  heads 
and  looked  at  him;  all  was  still.  Unthinkingly, 
from  ancient  habit,  he  counted  heads,  counted  the 
sheep  also ;  there  was  one  of  the  ewes  had  a  bad  habit 
of  staying  out  at  night  —  and  out  it  was  now. 
"Inger!"  he  called  again.  Still  no  answer. 

183 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Surely  she  couldn't  have  gone  with  them  down  to  the 
village  ? 

The  summer  night  was  light  and  warm.  Isak 
stayed  a  while  sitting  on  the  door-slab,  then  he  went 
out  into  the  woods  to  look  for  the  ewe.  •  And  he 
found  Inger.  Inger  and  one  other.  They  sat  in 
the  heather,  she  twirling  his  peaked  cap  on  one  fin- 
ger, both  talking  together  —  they  were  after  her 
again,  it  seemed. 

Isak  trundled  slowly  over  towards  them.  Inger 
turned  and  saw  him,  and  bowed  forward  where  she 
sat;  all  the  life  went  out  of  her,  she  hung  like  a  rag. 

"  H'm.  Did  you  know  that  ewe's  out  again?  " 
asked  Isak.  "  But  no,  you  wouldn't  know,"  said  he. 

The  young  telegraph  hand  picked  up  his  cap  and 
began  sidling  away.  "  I'll  be  getting  along  after 
the  others,"  he  said.  "  Good-night  to  ye."  No 
one  answered. 

"  So  you're  sitting  here,"  said  Isak.  "  Going  to 
stay  out  a  bit,  maybe  ?  "  And  he  turned  towards 
home.  Inger  rose  to  her  knees,  got  on  her  feet  and 
followed  after,  and  so  they  went,  man  in  front  and 
wife  behind,  tandem-wise.  They  went  home. 

Inger  must  have  found  time  to  think.  Oh,  she 
found  a  way.  "  'Twas  the  ewe  I  was  after,"  said 
she.  "  I  saw  it  was  out  again.  Then  one  of  the 
men  came  up  and  helped  me  look.  We'd  not  been 
sitting  a  moment  when  you  came.  Where  are  you 
going  now?  " 

"I?  Seems  I'd  better  look  for  the  creature  my- 
self." 

184 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  No,  no,  go  and  lie  down.  If  any  one's  to  go,  let 
me.  Go  and  lie  down,  you'll  be  needing  rest.  And 
as  for  that,  the  ewe  can  stay  out  where  she  is  — 
'twon't  be  the  first  time." 

"  And  be  eaten  up  by  some  beast  or  other,"  said 
Isak,  and  went  off. 

Inger  ran  after  him.  "  Don't,  don't,  it's  not 
worth  it,"  she  said.  "  You  need  rest.  Let  me  go." 

Isak  gave  in.  But  he  would  not  hear  of  Inger 
going  out  to  search  by  herself.  And  they  went  in- 
doors together. 

Inger  turned  at  once  to  look  for  the  children; 
went  into  the  little  chamber  to  see  to  the  boys,  as  if 
she  had  been  out  on  some  perfectly  natural  errand; 
it  almost  seemed,  indeed,  as  if  she  were  trying  to 
make  up  to  Isak  —  as  if  she  expected  him  to  be 
more  in  love  with  her  than  ever  that  evening  —  after 
she  had  explained  it  all  so  neatly.  But  no,  Isak  was 
not  so  easy  to  turn;  he  would  rather  have  seen  her 
thoroughly  distressed  and  beside  herself  with  con- 
trition. Ay,  that  would  have  been  better.  What 
matter  that  she  had  collapsed  for  a  moment  when  he 
came  on  her  in  the  woods;  the  little  moment  of 
shame  —  what  was  the  good  of  that  when  it  all 
passed  off  so  soon? 

He  was  far  from  gentle,  too,  the  next  day,  and 
that  a  Sunday;  went  off  and  looked  to  the  sawmill, 
looked  to  the  cornmill,  looked  over  the  fields,  with 
the  children  or  by  himself.  Inger  tried  once  to  join 
him,  but  Isak  turned  away :  "  I'm  going  up  to  the 
river,"  he  said.  "  Something  up  there  .  .  ." 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

There  was  trouble  in  his  mind,  like  enough,  but  he 
bore  it  silently,  and  made  no  scene.     Oh,  there  was 
.    something  great  about  Isak;  as  it  might  be  Israel,/ 
\    promised  and  ever  deceived,  but  still  believing. 

By  Monday  the  tension  was  less  marked,  and  as 
the  days  went  on,  the  impression  of  that  unhappy 
Saturday  evening  grew  fainter.     Time  can  mend  a  ] 
/"deal  of  things ;  a  spit  and  a  shake,  a  meal  and  a  good  ( 
]  night's  rest,  and  it  will  heal  the  sorriest  of  wounds.  / 
Isak's  trouble  was  not  so  bad  as  it  might  have  been; 
after   all,    he   was   not   certain   that   he   had  been 
wronged,  and  apart  from  that,  he  had  other  things 
to  think  of;  the  harvesting  was  at  hand.     And  last, 
not  least,  the  telegraph  line  was  all  but  finished  now; 
in  a  little  while  they  would  be  left  in  peace.     A 
broad  light  road,  a  king's  highway,  had  been  cut 
through  the  dark  of  the  forest;  there  were  poles 
and  wires  running  right  up  over  the  hills. 

Next  Saturday  paytime,  the  last  there  was  to  be, 
Isak  managed  to  be  away  from  home  —  he  wished  it 
so.  He  went  down  into  the  village  with  cheese  and 
butter,  and  came  back  on  Sunday  night.  The  men 
were  all  gone  from  the  barn;  nearly  all,  that  is;  the 
last  man  stumbled  out  of  the  yard  with  his  pack  on 
his  shoulder  —  all  but  the  last,  that  is.  That  it  was 
not  altogether  safe  as  yet  Isak  could  see,  for  there 
was  a  bundle  left  on  the  floor  of  the  barn.  Where 
the  owner  was  he  could  not  say,  and  did  not  care  to 
know,  but  there  was  a  peaked  cap  on  top  of  the 
bundle  —  an  offence  to  the  eye. 

Isak  heaved  the  bundle  out  into  the  yard,  flung 
1 86 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

the  cap  out  after  it,  and  closed  the  door.  Then  he 
went  into  the  stable  and  looked  out  through  the 
window.  And  thought,  belike:  "Let  the  bundle 
stay  there,  and  let  the  cap  lie  there,  'tis  all  one  whose 
they  may  be.  A  bit  of  dirt  he  is,  and  not  worth  my 
while  " —  so  he  might  have  thought.  But  when  the 
fellow  comes  for  his  bundle,  never  doubt  but  that 
Isak  will  be  there  to  take  him  by  the  arm  and  make 
that  arm  a  trifle  blue.  And  as  for  kicking  him  off 
the  place  in  a  way  he'd  remember  —  why,  Isak 
would  give  him  that  too ! 

Whereupon  Isak  left  his  window  in  the  stable  and 
went  back  to  the  cowshed  and  looked  out  from  there, 
and  could  not  rest.  The  bundle  was  tied  up  with 
string;  the  poor  fellow  had  no  lock  to  his  bag,  and 
the  string  had  come  undone  —  Isak  could  not  feel 
sure  he  had  not  dealt  over  hardly  with  that  bundle. 
Whatever  it  might  be  —  he  was  not  sure  he  had 
acted  rightly.  Only  just  now  he  had  been  in  the 
village,  and  seen  his  new  harrow,  a  brand-new  har- 
row he  had  ordered  —  oh,  a  wonderful  machine,  an 
idol  to  worship,  and  it  had  just  come.  A  thing  like 
that  must  carry  a  blessing  with  it.  And  the  powers 
above,  that  guide  the  footsteps  of  men,  might  be 
watching  him  now  at  this  moment,  to  see  if  he  de- 
served a  blessing  or  not.  Isak  gave  much  thought 
to  the  powers  above;  ay,  he  had  seen  God  with  his 
own  eyes,  one  night  in  harvest-time,  in  the  woods; 
it  was  rather  a  curious  sight. 

Isak  went  out  into  the  yard  and  stood  over  the 
bundle.  He  was  still  in  doubt;  he  thrust  his  hat  back 

-87 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

and  scratched  his  head,  which  gave  him  a  devil-may- 
care  appearance  for  the  moment;  something  lordly 
and  careless,  as  it  might  have  been  a  Spaniard.  But 
then  he  must  have  thought  something  like  this: 
"  Nay,  here  am  I,  and  far  from  being  in  any  way 
splendid  or  excellent;  a  very  dog."  And  then  he 
tied  up  the  bundle  neatly  once  more,  picked  up  the 
cap,  and  carried  all  back  into  the  barn  again.  And 
that  was  done. 

As  he  went  out  from  the  barn  and  over  to  the  mill, 
away  from  the  yard,  away  from  everything,  there 
was  no  Inger  to  be  seen  in  the  window  of  the  house. 
Nay,  then,  let  her  be  where  she  pleased  —  no  doubt 
she  was  in  bed  —  where  else  should  she  be?  But 
in  the  old  days,  in  those  first  innocent  years,  Inger 
could  never  rest,  but  sat  up  at  nights  waiting  for  him 
when  he  had  been  down  to  the  village.  It  was  dif- 
ferent now,  different  in  every  way.  As,  for  instance, 
when  he  had  given  her  that  ring.  Could  anything 
have  been  more  utterly  a  failure?  Isak  had  been 
gloriously  modest,  and  far  from  venturing  to  call  it 
a  gold  ring.  "  'Tis  nothing  grand,  but  you  might 
put  it  on  your  finger  just  to  try." 

"  Is  it  gold?"  she  asked. 

"  Ay,  but  'tis  none  so  thick,"  said  he. 

And  here  she  was  to  have  answered:  "Ay,  but 
indeed  it  is."  But  instead  she  had  said:  "  No,  'tis 
not  very  thick,  but  still  .  .  ." 

11  Nay,  'tis  worth  no  more  than  a  bit  of  grass,  be- 
like," said  he  at  last,  and  gave  up  hope. 

But  Inger  had  indeed  been  glad  of  the  ring,  and 

1 88 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

wore  it  on  her  right  hand,  looking  fine  there  when 
she  was  sewing;  now  and  again  she  would  let  the 
village  girls  try  it  on,  and  sit  with  it  on  their  finger 
for  a  bit  when  they  came  up  to  ask  of  this  or  that. 
Foolish  Isak  —  not  to  understand  that  she  was 
proud  of  it  beyond  measure !  .  .  . 

It  was  a  profitless  business  sitting  there  alone  in 
the  mill,  listening  to  the  fall  the  whole  night  through. 
Isak  had  done  no  wrong;  he  had  no  cause  to  hide 
himself  away.  He  left  the  mill,  went  up  over  the 
fields,  and  home  • —  into  the  house. 

And  then  in  truth  it  was  a  shamefaced  Isak, 
shamefaced  and  glad.  Brede  Olsen  sat  there,  his 
neighbour  and  no  other;  sat  there  drinking  coffee. 
Ay,  Inger  was  up,  the  two  of  them  sat  there  simply 
and  quietly,  talking  and  drinking  coffee. 

"  Here's  Isak,"  said  Inger  pleasantly  as  could  be, 
and  got  up  and  poured  out  a  cup  for  him.  "  Even- 
ing," said  Brede,  and  was  just  as  pleasant  too. 

Isak  could  see  that  Brede  had  been  spending  the 
evening  with  the  telegraph  gangs,  the  last  night  be- 
fore they  went;  he  was  somewhat  the  worse  for  it, 
maybe,  but  friendly  and  good-humoured  enough. 
He  boasted  a  little,  as  was  his  way:  hadn't  the  time 
really  to  bother  with  this  telegraphic  work,  the  farm 
took  all  of  a  man's  day  —  but  he  couldn't  very  well 
say  no  when  the  engineer  was  so  anxious  to  have  him. 
And  so  it  had  come  about,  too,  that  Brede  had  had 
to  take  over  the  job  of  line  inspector.  Not  for  the 
sake  of  the  money,  of  course,  he  could  earn  many 
times  that  down  in  the  village,  but  he  hadn't  liked 

189 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

to  refuse.  And  they'd  given  him  a  neat  little  ma- 
chine set  up  on  the  wall,  a  curious  little  thing,  a  sort 
of  telegraph  in  itself. 

Ay,  Brede  was  a  wastrel  and  a  boaster,  but  for  all 
that  Isak  could  bear  him  no  grudge ;  he  himself  was 
too  relieved  at  finding  his  neighbour  in  the  house  that 
evening  instead  of  a  stranger.  Isak  had  the  peas- 
ant's coolness  of  mind,  his  few  feelings,  stability, 
stubbornness;  he  chatted  with  Brede  and  nodded  at 
his  shallowness.  "  Another  cup  for  Brede,"  said 
he.  And  Inger  poured  it  out. 

Inger  talked  of  the  engineer ;  a  kindly  man  he  was 
beyond  measure;  had  looked  at  the  boys'  drawings 
and  writings,  and  even  said  something  about  taking 
Eleseus  to  work  under  him. 

"  To  work  with  him?  "  said  Isak. 

"  Ay,  to  the  town.  To  do  writing  and  things,  be 
a  clerk  in  the  office  —  all  for  he  was  so  pleased  with 
the  boy's  writing  and  drawing." 

"Ho!  "said  Isak. 

'  Well,  and  what  do  you  say?  He  was  going  to 
have  him  confirmed  too.  That  was  a  great  thing,  to 
my  mind." 

"  Ay,  a  great  thing  indeed,"  said  Brede.  "  And 
when  the  engineer  says  he'll  do  a  thing,  he'll  do  it. 
I  know  him,  and  you  can  take  my  word  for  that." 

'  We've  no  Eleseus  to  spare  on  this  farm  as  I 
know  of,"  said  Isak. 

There  was  something  like  a  painful  silence  after 
that.  Isak  was  not  an  easy  man  to  talk  to. 

"  But  when  the  boy  himself  wants  to  get  on,"  said 
190 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Inger  at  last,  "  and  has  it  in  him,  too."  Silence 
again. 

Then  said  Brede  with  a  laugh :  "  I  wish  he'd  ask 
for  one  of  mine,  anyway.  I've  enough  of  them  and 
to  spare.  But  Barbro's  the  eldest,  and  she's  a  girl." 

"  And  a  good  girl  enough,"  said  Inger,  for  polite- 
ness' sake. 

"Ay,  I'll  not  say  no,"  said  Brede.  "Barbro's 
well  enough,  and  clever  at  this  and  that  —  she's  go- 
ing to  help  at  the  Lensmand's  now." 

"  Going  to  the  Lensmand's?  " 

"  Well,  I  had  to  let  her  go  —  his  wife  was  so  set 
on  it,  I  couldn't  say  no." 

It  was  well  on  towards  morning  now,  and  Brede 
rose  to  go. 

"  I've  a  bundle  and  a  cap  I  left  in  your  barn,"  he 
said.  "  That  is  if  the  men  haven't  run  off  with  it," 
he  added  jestingly. 


191 


Chapter  XIV 


AND  time  went  on. 
Yes,  Eleseus  was  sent  to  town  after  all; 
Inger  managed  that.  He  was  there  for  a 
year,  then  he  was  confirmed,  and  after  that  had  a 
regular  place  in  the  engineer's  office,  and  grew  more 
and  more  clever  at  writing  and  things.  To  see  the 
letters  he  sent  home  —  sometimes  with  red  and  black 
ink,  like  pictures  almost.  And  the  talk  of  them,  the 
words  he  used.  Now  and  again  he  asked  for  money, 
something  towards  his  expenses.  A  watch  and 
chain,  for  instance,  he  must  have,  so  as  not  to  over- 
sleep himself  in  the  morning  and  be  late  at  the  office ; 
money  for  a  pipe  and  tobacco  also,  such  as  the  other 
young  clerks  in  the  town  always  had.  And  for 
something  he  called  pocket-money,  and  something  he 
called  evening  classes,  where  he  learned  drawing  and 
gymnastics  and  other  matters  proper  to  his  rank  and 
position.  Altogether,  it  was  no  light  matter  to  keep 
Eleseus  going  in  a  berth  in  town. 

"  Pocket-money?  "  said  Isak.  "  Is  that  money  to 
keep  in  your  pocket,  maybe?  " 

"  That  must  be  it,  no  doubt,"  said  Inger.  "  So 
as  not  to  be  altogether  without.  And  it's  not  much; 
only  a  Daler  now  and  then." 

"Ay,   that's   just   it,"   said  Isak  harshly.     "A 
192 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Daler  now  and  a  Daler  then  .  .  ."  But  his  harsh, 
ness  was  all  because  he  missed  Eleseus  himself,  and 
wanted  him  home.  "  It  makes  too  many  Dalers  in 
the  long  run,"  said  he.  "  I  can't  keep  on  like  this; 
you  must  write  and  tell  him  he  can  have  no  more." 

"  Ho,  very  well  then!  "  said  Inger  in  an  offended 
tone. 

"  There's  Sivert  —  what  does  he  get  by  way  of 
pocket-money?  " 

Inger  answered:  "  You've  never  been  in  a  town, 
and  so  you  don't  know  these  things.  Sivert's  no 
need  of  pocket-money.  And  talking  of  money, 
Sivert  ought  to  be  none  so  badly  off  when  his  Uncle 
Sivert  dies." 

"  You  don't  know." 

"  Ay,  but  I  do  know." 

And  this  was  right  enough  in  a  way ;  Uncle  Sivert 
had  said  something  about  making  little  Sivert  his 
heir.  Uncle  Sivert  had  heard  of  Eleseus  and  his 
grand  doings  in  town,  and  the  story  did  not  please 
him;  he  nodded  and  bit  his  lips,  and  muttered  that  a 
nephew  called  up  as  his  namesake  —  named  after 
Uncle  Sivert  —  should  not  come  to  want.  But 
what  was  this  fortune  Uncle  Sivert  was  supposed  to 
possess?  Had  he  really,  besides  his  neglected  farm 
and  his  fishery,  the  heap  of  money  and  means  folk 
generally  thought?  No  one  could  say  for  certain. 
And  apart  from  that,  Uncle  Sivert  himself  was  an 
obstinate  man;  he  insisted  that  little  Sivert  should 
come  to  stay  with  him.  It  was  a  point  of  honour 
with  him,  this  last;  he  should  take  little  Sivert  and 

193 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

look  after  him,  as  the  engineer  had  done  with 
Eleseus. 

But  how  could  it  be  done?  Send  little  Sivert 
away  from  home?  —  it  was  out  of  the  question. 
He  was  all  the  help  left  to  Isak  now.  Moreover, 
the  lad  himself  had  no  great  wish  to  go  and  stay 
with  his  famous  uncle ;  he  had  tried  it  once,  but  had 
come  home  again.  He  was  confirmed,  shot  up  in 
stature,  and  grew;  the  down  showed  on  his  cheek, 
his  hands  were  big,  a  pair  of  willing  slaves.  And  he 
worked  like  a  man. 

Isak  could  hardly  have  managed  to  get  the  new 
barn  built  at  all  without  Sivert's  help  —  but  there  it 
stood  now,  with  bridge-way  and  air-holes  and  all,  as 
big  as  they  had  at  the  parsonage  itself.  True,  it  was 
only  a  half-timbered  building  covered  with  boarding, 
but  extra  stout  built,  with  iron  clinches  at  the  corners, 
and  covered  with  one-inch  plank  from  Isak's  own 
sawmill.  And  Sivert  had  hammered  in  more  than 
one  nail  at  the  work,  and  lifted  the  heavy  beams  for 
the  framework  till  he  was  near  fainting.  Sivert  got 
on  well  with  his  father,  and  worked  steadily  at  his 
side;  he  was  made  of  the  same  stuff.  And  yet  he 
was  not  above  such  simple  ways  as  going  up  the  hill- 
side for  tansy  to  rub  with  so  as  to  smell  nice  in 
church.  'Twas  Leopoldine  was  the  one  for  getting 
fancies  in  her  head,  which  was  natural  enough,  she 
being  a  girl,  and  the  only  daughter.  That  summer, 
if  you  please,  she  had  discovered  that  she  could  not 
eat  her  porridge  at  supper  without  treacle  —  simply 


194 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

couldn't.  And  she  was  no  great  use  at  any  kind  of 
work  either. 

Inger  had  not  yet  given  up  her  idea  of  keeping  a 
servant;  she  brought  up  the  question  every  spring, 
and  every  time  Isak  opposed  it  stubbornly.  All  the 
cutting  out  and  sewing  and  fine  weaving  she  could  do, 
not  to  speak  of  making  embroidered  slippers,  if  she 
had  but  the  time  to  herself!  And  of  late,  Isak  had 
been  something  less  firm  in  his  refusal,  though  he 
grumbled  still.  Ho,  the  first  time!  He  had  made 
a  whole  long  speech  about  it;  not  as  a  matter  of  right 
and  reason,  nor  yet  from  pride,  but,  alas!  from 
weakness,  from  anger  at  the  idea.  But  now,  he 
seemed  to  be  giving  way,  as  if  ashamed. 

"  If  ever  I'm  to  have  help  in  the  house,  now's  the 
time,"  said  Inger.  "  A  few  years  more,  and  Leo- 
poldine'll  be  big  enough  to  do  this  and  that." 

"  Help?  "  said  Isak.  "  What  do  you  want  help 
with,  anyway?  " 

"  Want  with  it,  indeed?  Haven't  you  help  your- 
self? Haven't  you  Sivert  all  the  time?  " 

What  could  Isak  say  to  a  meaningless  argument 
like  that?  He  answered:  "  Ay,  well;  when  you  get 
a  girl  up  here,  I  doubt  you'll  be  able  to  plough  and 
sow  and  reap  and  manage  all  by  yourselves.  And 
then  Sivert  and  I  can  go  our  ways." 

"  That's  as  may  be,"  said  Inger.  "  But  I'll  just 
say  this:  that  I  could  get  Barbro  to  come  now;  she's 
written  home  about  it." 

"  What  Barbro  ?  "  said  Isak.  "  Is  it  that  Brede's 
girl  you  mean?  " 

195 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  Yes.     She's  in  Bergen  now." 

"  I'll  not  have  that  Brede's  girl  Barbro  up  here," 
said  he.  "  Whoever  you  get,  I'll  have  none  of 
her." 

That  was  better  than  nothing;  Isak  refused  to 
have  Barbro;  he  no  longer  said  they  would  have  no 
servant  at  all. 

Barbro  from  Breidablik  was  not  the  sort  of  girl 
Isak  approved  of;  she  was  shallow  and  unsettled  like 
her  father  —  maybe  like  her  mother  too  —  a  care- 
less creature,  no  steady  character  at  all.  She  had 
not  stayed  long  at  the  Lensmand's;  only  a  year. 
After  her  confirmation,  she  went  to  help  at  the  store- 
keeper's, and  was  there  another  year.  Here  she 
turned  pious  and  got  religion,  and  when  the  Salva- 
tion Army  came  to  the  village  she  joined  it,  and  went 
about  with  a  red  band  on  her  sleeve  and  carried  a 
guitar.  She  went  to  Bergen  in  that  costume,  on  the 
storekeeper's  boat  —  that  was  last  year.  And  she 
had  just  sent  home  a  photograph  of  herself  to  her 
people  at  Breidablik.  Isak  had  seen  it;  a  strange 
young  lady  with  her  hair  curled  up  and  a  long  watch- 
chain  hanging  down  over  her  breast.  Her  parents 
were  proud  of  little  Barbro,  and  showed  the  photo- 
graph about  to  all  who  came ;  'twas  grand  to  see  how 
she  had  learned  town  ways  and  got  on  in  the  world. 
As  for  the  red  band  and  the  guitar,  she  had  given 
them  up,  it  seemed. 

"  I  took  the  picture  along  and  showed  it  to  the 
Lensmand's  lady,"  said  Brede.  "  She  didn't  know 
her  again." 

196 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  Is  she  going  to  stay  in  Bergen?  "  said  Isak  sus- 
piciously. 

"  Why,  unless  she  goes  on  to  Christiania,  per- 
haps," said  Brede.  "  What's  there  for  her  to  do 
here?  She's  got  a  new  place  now,  as  housekeeper, 
for  two  young  clerks.  They've  no  wives  nor 
womenfolk  of  their  own,  and  they  pay  her  well." 

"  How  much?  "  said  Isak. 

"  She  doesn't  say  exactly  in  the  letter.  But  it 
must  be  something  altogether  different  from  what 
folk  pay  down  here,  that's  plain.  Why,  she  gets 
Christmas  presents,  and  presents  other  times  as  well, 
and  not  counted  off  her  wages  at  all." 

"Ho!  "said  Isak. 

"  You  wouldn't  like  to  have  her  up  at  your 
place?  "  asked  Brede. 

"  I?  "  said  Isak,  all  taken  aback. 

"  No,  of  course,  he  he !  It  was  only  a  way  of 
speaking.  Barbro's  well  enough  where  she  is. 
What  was  I  going  to  say?  You  didn't  notice  any- 
thing wrong  with  the  line  coming  down  —  the  tele- 
graph, what?  " 

"With  the  telegraph?     No." 

"  No,  no  ...  There's  not  much  wrong  with  it 
now  since  I  took  over.  And  then  I've  my  own  ma- 
chine here  on  the  wall  to  give  a  warning  if  anything 
happens.  I'll  have  to  take  a  walk  up  along  the  line 
one  of  these  days  and  see  how  things  are.  I've  too 
much  to  manage  and  look  after,  'tis  more  than  one 
man's  work.  But  as  long  as  I'm  Inspector  here,  and 
hold  an  official  position,  of  course  I  can't  neglect 

197 


my  duties.     If  I  hadn't  the  telegraph,   of  course 
.  .  .  and  it  may  not  be  for  long.  .  .  ." 
.   "  Why?  "  said  Isak.     "  You  thinking  of  giving  it 
up,  maybe?  " 

"  Well,  I  can't  say  exactly,"  said  Brede.  "  I 
haven't  quite  decided.  They  want  me  to  move 
down  into  the  village  again." 

"  Who  is  it  wants  you?  "  asked  Isak. 

"  Oh,  all  of  them.  The  Lensmand  wants  me  to 
go  and  be  assistant  there  again,  and  the  doctor  wants 
me  to  drive  for  him,  and  the  parson's  wife  said  more 
than  once  she  misses  me  to  lend  a  hand,  if  it  wasn't 
such  a  long  way  to  go.  How  was  it  with  that  strip 
of  hill,  Isak  —  the  bit  you  sold?  Did  you  get  as 
much  for  it  as  they  say?  " 

"  Ay,  'tis  no  lie,"  answered  Isak. 

"But  what  did  Geissler  want  with  it,  anyway? 
It  lies  there  still  —  curious  thing !  Year  after  year 
and  nothing  done." 

It  was  a  curious  thing;  Isak  had  often  wondered 
about  it  himself;  he  had  spoken  to  the  Lensmand 
about  it,  and  asked  for  Geissler's  address,  thinking 
to  write  to  him.  .  .  .  Ay,  it  was  a  mystery. 

"  'Tis  more  than  I  can  say,"  said  Isak. 

Brede  made  no  secret  of  his  interest  in  this  matter 
of  the  sale.  "  They  say  there's  more  of  the  same 
sort  up  there,"  he  said,  "  besides  yours.  Maybe 
there's  more  in  it  than  we  know.  'Tis  a  pity  that 
we  should  sit  here  like  dumb  beasts  and  know  noth- 
ing of  it  all.  I've  thought  of  going  up  one  day  my- 
self to  have  a  look." 

198 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  But  do  you  know  anything  about  metals  and 
such-like?  "  asked  Isak. 

"  Why,  I  know  a  bit.  And  I've  asked  one  or  two 
others.  Anyhow,  I'll  have  to  find  something;  I 
can't  live  and  keep  us  all  here  on  this  bit  of  a  farm. 
It's  sheer  impossible.  'Twas  another  matter  with 
you  that's  got  all  that  timber  and  good  soil  below. 
'Tis  naught  but  moorland  here." 

"  Moorland's  good  soil  enough,"  said  Isak 
shortly.  "  I've  the  same  myself." 

"  But  there's  no  draining  it,"  said  Brede.  .  .  . 
"  It  can't  be  done." 

But  it  could  be  done.  Coming  down  the  road 
that  day  Isak  noticed  other  clearings;  two  of  them 
were  lower  down,  nearer  the  village,  but  there  was 
one  far  up  above,  between  Breidablik  and  Sellanraa 
—  ay,  men  were  beginning  to  work  on  the  land  now; 
in  the  old  days  when  Isak  first  came  up,  it  had  lain 
waste  all  of  it.  And  these  three  new  settlers  were 
folks  from  another  district;  men  with  some  sense 
in  their  heads,  by  the  look  of  things.  They  didn't 
begin  by  borrowing  money  to  build  a  house ;  no,  they 
came  up  one  year  and  did  their  spade  work  and  went 
away  again;  vanished  as  if  they  were  dead.  That 
was  the  proper  way;  ditching  first,  then  plough  and 
sow.  Axel  Strom  was  nearest  to  Isak's  land  now, 
his  next-door  neighbour.  A  clever  fellow,  unmar- 
ried, he  came  from  Helgeland.  He  had  borrowed 
Isak's  new  harrow  to  break  up  his  soil,  and  not  till 
the  second  year  had  he  set  up  a  hayshed  and  a  turf 
hut  for  himself  and  a  couple  of  animals.  He  had 

199 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

called  his  place  Maaneland,  because  it  looked  nice 
in  the  moonlight.  He  had  no  womenfolk  himself, 
and  found  it  difficult  to  get  help  in  the  summer,  lying 
so  far  out,  but  he  managed  things  the  right  way,  no 
doubt  about  that.  Not  as  Brede  Olsen  did,  building 
a  house  first,  and  then  coming  up  with  a  big  family 
and  little  ones  and  all,  with  neither  soil  nor  stock  to 
feed  them.  What  did  Brede  Olsen  know  of  drain- 
ing moorland  and  breaking  new  soil? 

He  knew  how  to  waste  his  time  idling,  did  Brede. 
He  came  by  Sellanraa  one  day,  going  up  to  the  hills 
—  simply  to  look  for  precious  metals.  He  came 
back  the  same  evening;  had  not  found  anything 
definite,  he  said,  but  certain  signs  —  and  he  nodded. 
He  would  come  up  again  soon,  and  go  over  the 
hills  thoroughly,  over  towards  Sweden. 

And  sure  enough,  Brede  came  up  again.  He  had 
taken  a  fancy  to  the  work,  no  doubt;  but  he  called  it 
telegraph  business  this  time  —  must  go  up  and  look 
over  the  whole  of  the  line.  Meanwhile  his  wife  and 
children  at  home  looked  after  the  farm,  or  left  it 
to  look  after  itself.  Isak  was  sick  and  tired  of 
Brede's  visits,  and  went  out  of  the  room  when  he 
came;  then  Inger  and  Brede  would  sit  talking  heart- 
ily together.  What  could  they  have  to  talk  about  ? 
Brede  often  went  down  to  the  village,  and  had  al- 
ways some  news  to  tell  of  the  great  folk  there; 
Inger,  on  the  other  hand,  could  always  draw  upon 
her  famous  journey  to  Trondhjem  and  her  stay  there. 
She  had  grown  talkative  in  the  years  she  had  been 
away,  and  was  always  ready  to  gossip  with  any  one. 

200 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

No,  she  was  no  longer  the  same  straightforward, 
simple  Inger  of  the  old  days. 

Girls  and  women  came  up  continually  to  Sellanraa 
to  have  a  piece  of  work  cut  out,  or  a  long  hem  put 
through  the  machine  in  a  moment,  and  Inger  enter- 
tained them  well.  Oline  too  came  again,  couldn't 
help  it,  belike;  came  both  spring  and  autumn;  fair- 
spoken,  soft  as  butter,  and  thoroughly  false.  "  Just 
looked  along  to  see  how  things  are  with  you,"  she 
said  each  time.  "  And  I've  been  longing  so  for  a 
sight  of  the  lads,  I'm  that  fond  of  them,  the  little 
angels  they  were.  Ay,  they're  big  fellows  now,  but 
it's  strange  ...  I  can't  forget  the  time  when  they 
were  small  and  I  had  them  in  my  care.  And  here's 
you  building  and  building  again,  and  making  a  whole 
town  of  the  place.  Going  to  have  a  bell  to  ring, 
maybe,  at  the  roof  of  the  barn,  same  as  at  the  par- 
sonage? " 

Once  Oline  came  and  brought  another  woman 
with  her,  and  the  pair  of  them  and  Inger  had  a  nice 
day  together.  The  more  Inger  had  sitting  round 
her,  the  better  she  worked  at  her  sewing  and  cutting 
out,  making  a  show  of  it,  waving  her  scissors  and 
swinging  the  iron.  It  reminded  her  of  the  place 
where  she  had  learned  it  all  —  there  was  always 
many  of  them  in  the  workrooms  there.  Inger  made 
no  secret  of  where  she  had  got  her  knowledge  and 
all  her  art  from;  it  was  from  Trondhjem.  It  almost 
appeared  as  if  she  had  not  been  in  prison  at  all,  in 
the  ordinary  way,  but  at  school,  in  an  institute,  where 
one  could  learn  to  sew  and  weave  and  write,  and  do 

201 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

dressing  and  dyeing  —  all  that  she  had  learned  in 
Trondhjem.  She  spoke  of  the  place  as  of  a  home; 
there  were  so  many  people  she  knew  there,  superin- 
tendents and  forewomen  and  attendants,  it  had  been 
dull  and  empty  to  come  back  here  again,  and  hard 
to  find  herself  altogether  cut  off  from  the  life  and 
society  she  had  been  accustomed  to.  She  even  made 
some  show  of  having  a  cold  —  couldn't  stand  the 
keen  air  there;  for  years  after  her  return  she  had 
been  too  poorly  to  work  out  of  doors  in  all  seasons. 
It  was  for  the  outside  work  she  really  ought  to  have 
a  servant. 

"  Ay,  Heaven  save  us,"  said  Oline,  "  and  why 
shouldn't  you  have  a  servant  indeed,  when  you've 
means  and  learning  and  a  great  fine  house  and 
all!" 

It  was  pleasant  to  meet  with  sympathy,  and 
Inger  did  not  deny  it.  She  worked  away  at  her 
machine  till  the  place  shook,  and  the  ring  on  her  fin- 
ger shone. 

"  There,  you  can  see  for  yourself,"  said  Oline  to 
the  woman  with  her.  "  It's  true  what  I  said,  Inger 
she  wears  a  gold  ring  on  her  finger." 

"  Would  you  like  to  see  it?  "  asked  Inger,  taking 
it  off. 

Oline  seemed  still  to  have  her  doubts;  she  turned 
it  in  her  fingers  as  a  monkey  with  a  nut,  looked  at 
the  mark.  "Ay,  'tis  as  I  say;  Inger  with  all  her 
means  and  riches." 

The  other  woman  took  the  ring  with  veneration, 
and  smiled  humbly.  '  You  can  put  it  on  for  a  bit  if 

202 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

you  like,"  said  Inger.     "  Don't  be  afraid,  it  won't 
break." 

And  Inger  was  amiable  and  kind.  She  told  them 
about  the  cathedral  at  Trondhjem,  and  began  like 
this:  "  You  haven't  seen  the  cathedral  at  Trondhjem, 
maybe?  No,  you  haven't  been  there!"  And  it 
might  have  been  her  own  cathedral,  from  the  way 
she  praised  it,  boasted  of  it,  told  them  height  and 
breadth;  it  was  a  marvel !  Seven  priests  could  stand 
there  preaching  all  at  once  and  never  hear  one  an- 
other. "  And  then  I  suppose  you've  never  seen  St. 
Olaf's  Well?  Right  in  the  middle  of  the  cathedral 
itself,  it  is,  on  one  side,  and  it's  a  bottomless  well. 
When  we  went  there,  we  took  each  a  little  stone  with 
us,  and  dropped  it  in,  but  it  never  reached  the 
bottom." 

"  Never  reached  the  bottom?  "  whispered  the  two 
women,  shaking  their  heads. 

"  And  there's  a  thousand  other  things  besides 
in  that  cathedral,"  exclaimed  Inger  delightedly. 
'  There's  the  silver  chest  to  begin  with.  It's  Holy 
St.  Olaf  his  own  silver  chest  that  he  had.  But  the 
Marble  Church  —  that  was  a  little  ehurch  all  of 
pure  marble  —  the  Danes  took  that  from  us  in  the 
war.  .  .  ." 

It  was  time  for  the  women  to  go.  Oline  took 
Inger  aside,  led  her  out  into  the  larder  where  she 
knew  all  the  cheeses  were  stored,  and  closed  the 
door.  "  What  is  it?  "  asked  Inger. 

Oline  whispered:  "  Os-Anders,  he  doesn't  dare 
come  here  any  more.  I've  told  him." 

203 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"Ho!"saidlnger. 

"  I  told  him  if  he  only  dared,  after  what  he'd  done 
to  you." 

"  Ay,"  said  Inger.  "  But  he's  been  here  many 
a  time  since  for  all  that.  And  he  can  come  if  he 
likes,  I'm  not  afraid." 

"  No,  that's  so,"  said  Oline.  "  But  I  know  what 
I  know,  and  if  you  like,  I'll  lay  a  charge  against 
him." 

"  Ho  I  "  said  Inger.  "  No,  you've  no  call  to  do 
that.  Tis  not  worth  it." 

But  she  was  not  ill  pleased  to  have  Oline  on  her 
side;  it  cost  her  a  cheese,  to  be  sure,  but  Oline 
thanked  her  so  fulsomely:  "  'Tis  as  I  say,  'tis  as 
I've  always  said:  Inger,  she  gives  with  both  hands; 
nothing  grudging,  nothing  sparing  about  her !  No, 
maybe  you're  not  afraid  of  Os-Anders,  but  I've  for- 
bid him  to  come  here  all  the  same.  'Twas  the  least 
I  could  do  for  you." 

Said  Inger  then:  "What  harm  could  it  .do  if  he 
did  come,  anyway?  He  can't  hurt  me  any  more." 

Oline  pricked  up  her  ears:  "  Ho,  you've  learned  a 
way  yourself,  maybe?  " 

"  I  shan't  have  any  more  children,"  said  Inger. 

And  now  they  were  quits,  each  holding  as  good  a 
trump  as  the  other:  for  Oline  stood  there  knowing 
all  the  time  that  Os-Anders  the  Lapp  had  died  the 
day  before.  .  .  . 

Why  should  Inger  say  that  about  having  no  more 
children?  She  was  not  on  bad  terms  with  her  hus- 

204 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

band,  'twas  no  cat-and-dog  life  between  them  —  far 
from  it.  They  had  each  their  own  little  ways,  but 
it  was  rarely  they  quarrelled,  and  never  for  long  at 
a  time;  it  was  soon  made  up.  And  many  a  time 
Inger  would  suddenly  be  just  as  she  had  been  in  the 
old  days,  working  hard  in  the  cowshed  or  in  the 
field;  as  if  she  had  had  a  relapse  into  health  again. 
And  at  such  times  Isak  would  look  at  his  wife  with 
grateful  eyes;  if  he  had  been  the  sort  of  man  to 
speak  his  mind  at  once,  he  might  have  said,  "  H'm. 
What  does  this  mean,  heh?"  or  something  of  the 
sort,  just  to  show  he  appreciated  it.  But  he  waited 
too  long,  and  his  praise  came  too  late.  So  Inger, 
no  doubt,  found  it  not  worth  while,  and  did  not  care 
to  keep  it  up. 

She  might  have  had  children  till  past  fifty;  as  it 
was,  she  was  perhaps  hardly  forty  now.  She  had 
learned  all  sorts  of  things  at  the  institution  —  had 
she  also  learned  to  play  tricks  with  herself?  She 
had  come  back  so  thoroughly  trained  and  educated 
after  her  long  association  with  the  other  murder- 
esses; maybe  the  men  had  taught  her  something  too 
—  the  gaolers,  the  doctors.  She  told  Isak  one  day 
what  one  young  medical  man  had  said  of  her  little 
crime :  "  Why  should  it  be  a  criminal  offence  to  kill 
children  —  ay,  even  healthy  children?  They  were 
nothing  but  lumps  of  flesh  after  all." 

Isak  asked:  "Wasn't  he  terribly  cruel  himself, 
then?" 

"  Him !  "  exclaimed  Inger,  and  told  how  kind  he 
had  been  to  her  herself;  it  was  he  who  had  got  an- 

205 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

other  doctor  to  operate  on  her  mouth  and  make  a 
human  being  of  her.  Now  there  was  only  a  scar  to 
be  seen. 

Only  a  scar,  yes.  And  a  fine  woman  she  was  in 
her  way,  tall  and  not  over-stout,  dark,  with  rich  hair ; 
in  summer  she  went  barefooted  mostly,  and  with  her 
skirt  kilted  high;  Inger  was  not  afraid  of  letting 
her  calves  be  seen.  Isak  saw  them  —  as  who  did 
not! 

They  did  not  quarrel,  no.  Isak  had  no  talent  for 
quarrelling,  and  his  wife  had  grown  readier-witted 
to  answer  back.  A  thorough  good  quarrel  took  a 
long  time  to  grow  with  Isak,  heavy  stub  of  a  man 
as  he  was;  he  found  himself  all  entangled  in  her 
words,  and  could  say  next  to  nothing  himself;  and 
besides,  he  was  fond  of  her  —  powerfully  in  love 
was  Isak.  And  it  was  not  often  he  had  any  need 
to  answer.  Inger  did  not  complain;  he  was  an 
excellent  husband  in  many  ways,  and  she  let  him 
alone.  What  had  she  to  complain  of  at  all?  Isak 
was  not  a  man  to  be  despised;  she  might  have  mar- 
ried a  worse.  Worn  out,  was  he?  True,  he 
showed  signs  of  being  tired  now  at  times,  but  noth- 
ing serious.  He  was  full  of  old  health  and  unwasted, 
strength,  like  herself,  and  in  this  autumn  of  their 
married  life  he  fulfilled  his  part  at  least  as  affection- 
ately as  she  did. 

But  nothing  particularly  beautiful  nor  grand  about 
him?  No.  And  here  came  her  superiority.  Inger 
might  well  think  to  herself  at  times  how  she  had 
seen  finer  men;  handsome  gentlemen  with  walking- 

206 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

sticks  and  handkerchiefs  and  starched  collars  to 
wear  —  oh,  those  gentlemen  of  the  town!  And  so 
she  kept  Isak  in  his  place,  treated  him,  as  it  were, 
no  better  than  he  deserved.  He  was  only  a  peas- 
ant, a  clodhopper  of  the  wilds;  if  her  mouth  had 
been  as  it  was  now  from  the  start  she  would  never 
have  taken  him;  be  sure  of  that.  No,  she  could 
have  done  better  than  that!  The  home  he  had 
given  her,  the  life  he  offered  her,  were  poor  enough; 
she  might  at  least  have  married  some  one  from  her 
own  village,  and  lived  among  neighbours,  with  a 
circle  of  friends,  instead  of  here  like  an  outcast  in 
the  wilds.  It  was  not  the  place  for  her  now;  she 
had  learned  to  look  differently  at  life. 
s\  Strange,  how  one  could  come  to  look  differently  at 
ings!  Inger  found  no  pleasure  now  in  admiring 
a  new  calf;  she  did  not  clap  her  hands  in  surprise 
when  Isak  came  down  from  the  hills  with  a  big 
basket  of  fish;  no,  she  had  lived  for  six  years  among 
greater  things.  And  of  late  she  had  even  ceased  to 
be  heavenly  and  sweet  when  she  called  him  in  to 
dinner.  "  Your  food's  ready,  aren't  you  coming 
in?"  was  all  she  said  now.  And  it  didn't  sound 
nice.  Isak  wondered  a  little  at  first;  it  was  a  curi- 
ous way  to  speak;  a  nasty,  uncaring,  take-it-or-leave- 
it  way  to  speak.  And  he  answered :  "  Why,  I  didn't 
know  'twas  ready."  But  when  Inger  pointed  out 
that  he  ought  to  have  known,  or  might  have  guessed 
it,  anyway,  by  the  sun,  he  said  no  more,  and  let  the 
matter  drop. 

207 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Ah,  but  once  he  got  a  hold  on  her  and  used  it  — 
that  was  when  she  tried  to  steal  his  money  from  him. 
Not  that  Isak  was  a  miser  in  that  way,  but  the  money 
was  clearly  his.  Ho,  it  was  nearly  being  ruin  and 
disaster  for  her  that  time !  But  even  then  it  was  not 
exactly  thoroughgoing,  out-and-out  wickedness  on 
Inger's  part;  she  wanted  the  money  for  Eleseus  — 
for  her  blessed  boy  Eleseus  in  town,  who  was  asking 
for  his  Daler  again.  Was  he  to  go  there  among  all 
the  fine  folk  and  with  empty  pockets  ?  After  all,  she 
had  a  mother's  heart.  She  asked  his  father  for  the 
money  first,  and,  finding  it  was  no  good,  had  taken 
it  herself.  Whether  Isak  had  had  some  suspicion 
beforehand,  or  had  found  it  out  by  accident  —  any- 
how, it  was  found  out.  And  suddenly  Inger  found 
herself  gripped  by  both  arms,  felt  herself  lifted 
from  the  floor,  and  thumped  down  on  to  the  floor 
again.  It  was  something  strange  and  terrible  —  a 
sort  of  avalanche.  Isak's  hands  were  not  weak,  not 
worn  out  now.  Inger  gave  a  groan,  her  head  fell 
back,  she  shivered,  and  gave  up  the  money. 

Even  then  Isak  said  little,  though  Inger  made  no 
attempt  to  hinder  him  from  speaking.  What  he  did 
say  was  uttered,  as  it  were,  in  one  hard  breath: 
"  Huttch !  You  —  you're  not  fit  to  have  in  the 
place!" 

She  hardly  knew  him  again.  Oh,  but  it  must  have 
been  long-stored  bitterness  that  would  not  be  re- 
pressed. 

A  miserable  day,  and  a  long  night,  and  a  day 
beyond.  Isak  went  out  of  the  house  and  lay  out- 

208 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

side,  for  all  that  there  was  hay  to  be  got  in;  Sivert 
was  with  his  father.  Inger  had  little  Leopoldine 
and  the  animals  to  keep  her  company;  but  lonely  she 
was  for  all  that,  crying  nearly  all  the  time  and  shak- 
ing her  head  at  herself.  Only  once  in  all  her  life 
before  had  she  felt  so  moved,  and  this  day  called 
it  to  mind;  it  was  when  she  had  lain  in  her  bed  and 
throttled  a  newborn  child. 

Where  were  Isak  and  his  son?  They  had  not 
been  idle;  no,  they  had  stolen  a  day  and  a  night  or 
thereabouts  from  the  hay-making,  and  had  built  a 
boat  up  on  the  lake.  Oh,  a  rough  and  poor-looking 
vessel  enough,  but  strong  and  sound  as  their  work 
had  always  been;  they  had  a  boat  now,  and  could 
go  fishing  with  nets. 

When  they  came  home  the  hay  was  dry  as  ever. 
They  had  cheated  providence  by  trusting  it,  and  suf- 
fered no  loss;  they  had  gained  by  it.  And  then 
Sivert  flung  out  an  arm,  and  said:  "  Ho  I  Mother's 
been  haymaking  1  "  Isak  looked  down  over  the 
fields  and  said  "  H'm."  Isak  had  noticed  already 
that  some  of  the  hay  had  been  shifted;  Inger  ought 
to  be  home  now  for  her  midday  meal.  It  was  well 
done  indeed  of  her  to  get  in  the  hay,  after  he  had 
scolded  her  the  day  before  and  said  "Huttch!" 
And  it  was  no  light  hay  to  move;  she  must  have 
worked  hard,  and  all  the  cows  and  goats  to  milk 
besides.  .  .  ;  "  Go  in  and  get  something  to  eat,"  he 
said  to  Sivert. 

"  Aren't  you  coming,  then?  " 

"  No." 

209 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

A  little  while  after,  Inger  came  out  and  stood 
humbly  on  the  door-slab  and  said: 

"  If  you'd  think  of  yourself  a  little  —  and  come 
in  and  have  a  bite  to  eat." 

Isak  grumbled  at  that  and  said  "  H'm."  But  it 
was  so  strange  a  thing  of  late  for  Inger  to  be  humble 
in  any  way,  that  his  stubbornness  was  shaken. 

"  If  you  could  manage  to  set  a  couple  of  teeth  in 
my  rake,  I  could  get  on  again  with  the  hay,"  said 
she.  Ay,  she  came  to  her  husband,  the  master  of 
the  place,  to  ask  for  something,  and  was  grateful 
that  he  did  not  turn  scornfully  away. 

"  You've  worked  enough,"  said  he,  "  raking  and 
carting  and  all." 

"  No,  'tis  not  enough." 

"  I've  no  time,  anyway,  to  mend  rakes  now.  You 
can  see  there's  rain  coming  soon." 

And  Isak  went  off  to  his  work. 

It  was  all  meant  to  save  her,  no  doubt;  for  the 
couple  of  minutes  it  would  have  taken  to  mend  the 
rake  would  have  been  more  than  tenfold  repaid  by 
letting  Inger  work  on.  Anyhow,  Inger  came  out 
with  her  rake  as  it  was,  and  fell  to  haymaking  with 
a  will;  Sivert  came  up  with  the  horse  and  haycart, 
and  all  went  at  it,  sweating  at  the  work,  and  the  hay 
was  got  in.  It  was  a  good  stroke  of  work,  and 
Isak  fell  to  thinking  once  more  of  the  powers  above 
that  guide  all  our  ways  —  from  stealing  a  Daler  to 
getting  a  crop  of  hay.  Moreover,  there  lay  the 
boat;  after  half  a  generation  of  thinking  it  over, 
the  boat  was  finished;  it  was  there,  up  on  the  lake. 

"  Eyah,  Herregud!  "  said  Isak. 
2IO 


Chapter  XV 


IT  was  a  strange  evening  altogether:  a  turning- 
point.  Inger  had  been  running  off  the  line  for 
a  long  time  now;  and  one  lift  up  from  the  floor 
had  set  her  in  her  place  again.  Neither  spoke  of 
what  had  happened.  Isak  had  felt  ashamed  of  him- 
self after  —  all  for  the  sake  of  a  Daler,  a  trifle  of 
money,  that  he  would  have  had  to  give  her  after  all, 
because  he  himself  would  gladly  have  let  the  boy 
have  it.  And  then  again  —  was  not  the  money  as 
much  Inger's  as  his  own?  There  came  a  time  when 
Isak  found  it  his  turn  to  be  humble. 

There  came  many  sorts  of  times.  Inger  must 
have  changed  her  mind  again,  it  seemed;  once  more 
she  was  different,  gradually  forgetting  her  fine  ways 
and  turning  earnest  anew:  a  settler's  wife,  earnest 
and  thoughtful  as  she  had  been  before.  To  think 
that  a  man's  hard  grip  could  work  such  wonders! 
But  it  was  right;  here  was  a  strong  and  healthy 
woman,  sensible  enough,  but  spoiled  and  warped  by 
long  confinement  in  an  artificial  air  —  and  she  had 
butted  into  a  man  who  stood  firmly  on  his  feet. 
Never  for  a  moment  had  he  left  his  natural  place 
on  the  earth,  on  the  soil.  Nothing  could  move  him. 
Many  sorts  of  times.  Next  year  came  the 
drought  again,  killing  the  growth  off  slowly,  and 

211 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

wearing  down  human  courage.  The  corn  stood 
there  and  shrivelled  up ;  the  potatoes  —  the  wonder- 
ful potatoes  —  they  did  not  shrivel  up,  but  flowered 
and  flowered.  The  meadows  turned  grey,  but  the 
potatoes  flowered.  The  powers  above  guided  all 
things,  no  doubt,  but  the  meadows  were  turning 
grey. 

Then  one  day  came  Geissler  —  ex-Lensmand 
Geissler  came  again  at  last.  It  was  good  to  find 
that  he  was  not  dead,  but  had  turned  up  again. 
And  what  had  he  come  for  now? 

Geissler  had  no  grand  surprises  with  him  this 
time,  by  the  look  of  it;  no  purchases  of  mining  rights 
and  documents  and  such-like.  Geissler  was  poorly 
dressed,  his  hair  and  beard  turned  greyer,  and  his 
eyes  redder  at  the  edges  than  before.  He  had  no 
man,  either,  to  carry  his  things,  but  had  his  papers 
in  a  pocket,  and  not  even  a  bag. 

"  Goddag''  said  Geissler. 

"  Goddag''  answered  Isak  and  Inger.  "  Here's 
the  like  of  visitors  to  see  this  way!  " 

Geissler  nodded. 

"  And  thanks  for  all  you  did  that  time  —  in 
Trondhjem,"  said  Inger  all  by  herself. 

And  Isak  nodded  at  that,  and  said :  "  Ay,  'tis  two 
of  us  owe  you  thanks  for  that." 

But  Geissler  —  it  was  not  his  way  to  be  all  feel- 
ings and  sentiments;  he  said:  "Yes,  I'm  just  going 
across  to  Sweden." 

For  all  their  trouble  of  mind  over  the  drought, 
Sellanraa's  folk  were  glad  to  see  Geissler  again; 

212 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

they  gave  him  the  best  they  had,  and  were  heartily 
glad  to  do  what  they  could  for  him  after  all  he  had 
done. 

Geissler  himself  had  no  troubles  that  could  be 
seen;  he  grew  talkative  at  once,  looked  out  over  the 
fields  and  nodded.  He  carried  himself  upright  as 
ever,  and  looked  as  if  he  had  several  hundreds  of 
Daler  in  his  pockets.  It  livened  them  up  and 
brightened  everything  to  have  him  there;  not  that 
he  made  any  boisterous  fun,  but  a  lively  talker,  that 
he  was. 

"  Fine  place,  Sellanraa,  splendid  place,"  he  said. 
u  And  now  there's  others  coming  up  one  after  an- 
other, since  you've  started,  Isak.  I  counted  five  my- 
self. Are  there  any  more  ?  " 

"  Seven  in  all.  There's  two  that  can't  be  seen 
from  the  road." 

"  Seven  holdings;  say  fifty  souls.  Why,  it'll  be 
a  densely  populated  neighbourhood  before  long. 
And  you've  a  school  already,  so  I  hear?  " 

"  Ay,  we  have." 

"There  —  what  did  I  say?  A  school  all  to 
yourselves,  down  by  Brede's  place,  being  more  in 
the  middle.  Fancy  Brede  as  a  farmer  in  the 
wilds !  "  and  Geissler  laughed  at  the  thought.  "  Ay, 
I've  heard  all  about  you,  Isak;  you're  the  best  man 
here.  And  I'm  glad  of  it.  Sawmill,  too,  you've 
got?" 

"  Ay,  such  as  it  is.  But  it  serves  me  well  enough. 
And  I've  sawed  a  bit  now  and  again  for  them  down 
below." 

213 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"Bravo!     That's  the  way!" 

"  I'd  be  glad  to  hear  what  you  think  of  it,  Lens- 
mand,  if  so  be  you'd  care  to  look  at  that  sawmill  for 
yourself." 

Geissler  nodded,  with  the  air  of  an  expert;  yes, 
he  would  look  at  it,  examine  it  thoroughly.  Then 
he  asked:  "  You  had  two  boys,  hadn't  you  -. — what's 
become  of  the  other?  In  town?  Clerk  in  an  of- 
fice? H'm,"  said  Geissler.  "  But  this  one  here 
looks  a  sturdy  sort  —  what  was  your  name,  now?  " 

"  Sivert." 

"And  the  other  one?" 

"  Eleseus." 

"  And  he's  in  an  engineer's  office  —  what's  he 
reckon  to  learn  there?  A  starvation  business. 
Much  better  have  come  to  me,"  said  Geissler. 

"  Ay,"  said  Isak,  for  politeness'  sake.  He  felt 
a  sort  of  pity  for  Geissler  at  the  moment.  Oh,  that 
good  man  did  not  look  as  if  he  could  afford  to  keep 
clerks;  had  to  work  hard  enough  by  himself,  belike. 
That  jacket  —  it  was  worn  to  fringes  at  the  wrists. 

'  Won't  you  have  some  dry  hose  to  put  on?  "  said 
Inger,  and  brought  out  a  pair  of  her  own.  They 
were  from  her  best  days;  fine  and  thin,  with  a 
border. 

"  No,  thanks,"  said  Geissler  shortly,  though  he 
must  have  been  wet  through. — "  Much  better  have 
come  to  me,"  he  said  again,  speaking  of  Eleseus. 
"  I  want  him  badly."  He  took  a  small  silver 
tobacco  box  from  his  pocket  and  sat  playing  with  it 

214 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

in  his  fingers.  It  was  perhaps  the  only  thing  of 
value  left  him  now. 

But  Geissler  was  restless,  changing  from  one  thing 
to  another.  He  slipped  the  thing  back  into  his 
pocket  again  and  started  a  new  theme.  "  But  — 
what's  that?  Why,  the  meadow  that's  all  grey.  I 
thought  it  was  the  shadow.  The  ground  is  simply 
parched.  Come  along  with  me,  Sivert." 

He  rose  from  the  table  suddenly,  thinking  no  more 
of  food,  turned  in  the  doorway  to  say  "  Thank  you  " 
to  Inger  for  the  meal,  and  disappeared,  Sivert  fol- 
lowing. 

They  went  across  to  the  river,  Geissler  peering 
keenly  about  all  the  time.  "  Here !  "  he  cried,  and 
stopped.  And  then  he  explained:  "Where's  the 
sense  of  letting  your  land  dry  up  to  nothing  when 
you've  a  river  there  big  enough  to  drown  it  in  a 
minute?  We'll  have  that  meadow  green  by  to- 
morrow !  " 

Sivert,  all  astonishment,  said  "  Yes." 

"Dig  down  obliquely  from  here,  see?  —  on  a 
slope.  The  ground's  level;  have  to  make  some  sort 
of  a  channel.  You've  a  sawmill  there  —  I  suppose 
you  can  find  some  long  planks  from  somewhere? 
Good!  Run  and  fetch  a  pick  and  spade,  and  start 
here;  I'll  go  back  and  mark  out  a  proper  line." 

He  ran  up  to  the  house  again,  his  boots  squelching, 
for  they  were  wet  through.  He  set  Isak  to  work 
making  pipes,  a  whole  lot  of  them,  to  be  laid  down 
where  the  ground  could  not  well  be  cut  with  ditches. 

215 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Isak  tried  to  object  that  the  water  might  not  get  so 
far;  the  dry  ground  would  soak  it  up  before  it 
reached  the  parched  fields.  Geissler  explained  that 
it  would  take  some  time;  the  earth  must  drink  a  little 
first,  but  then  gradually  the  water  would  go  on  — 
"  field  and  meadow  green  by  this  time  tomorrow." 

"  Ho !  "  said  Isak,  and  fell  to  boxing  up  long 
planks  as  hard  as  he  could. 

Off  hurries  Geissler  to  Sivert  once  more :  "  That's 
right  —  keep  at  it  —  didn't  I  say  he  was  a  sturdy 
sort?  Follow  these  stakes,  you  understand,  where 
I've  marked  out.  If  you  come  up  against  heavy 
boulders,  or  rock,  then  turn  aside  and  go  round,  but 
keep  the  level  —  the  same  depth ;  you  see  what  I 
mean?  " 

Then  back  to  Isak  again :  "  That's  one  finished  — 
good !  But  we  shall  want  more  —  half  a  dozen, 
perhaps.  Keep  at  it,  Isak;  you  see,  we'll  have  it 
all  green  by  tomorrow  —  we've  saved  your  crops !  " 
And  Geissler  sat  down  on  the  ground,  slapped  his 
knees  with  both  hands  and  was  delighted,  chattered 
away,  thought  in  flashes  of  lightning.  "  Any  pitch, 
any  oakum,  or  anything  about  the  place?  That's 
splendid  —  got  everything.  These  things'll  leak  at 
the  edges  you  see,  to  begin  with,  but  the  wood'll 
swell  after  a  while,  and  they'll  be  as  taut  as  a  bottle. 
Oakum  and  pitch  —  fancy  you  having  it  too !  — 
What?  Built  a  boat,  you  say?  Where  is  the  boat? 
Up  in  the  lake?  Good!  I  must  have  a  look  at 
that  too." 

Oh,  Geissler  was  all  promises.  Light  come, 
216 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

light  go  —  and  he  seemed  more  giving  to  fussing 
about  than  before.  He  worked  at  things  by  fits  and 
starts,  but  at  a  furious  rate  when  he  did  work. 
There  was  a  certain  superiority  about  him  after  all. 
True,  he  exaggerated  a  bit  —  it  was  impossible,  of 
course,  to  get  all  green  by  this  time  tomorrow,  as  he 
had  said,  but  for  all  that,  Geissler  was  a  sharp 
fellow,  quick  to  see  and  take  a  decision;  ay,  a  strange 
man  was  Geissler.  And  it  was  he  and  no  other  that 
saved  the  crops  that  year  at  Sellanraa. 

"  How  many  have  you  got  done?  Not  enough. 
The  more  wood  you  can  lay,  the  quicker  it'll  flow. 
Make  them  twenty  feet  long  or  twenty-five,  if  you 
can.  Any  planks  that  length  on  the  place?  Good; 
fetch  them  along  —  you'll  find  it'll  pay  you  at  har- 
vest-time! " 

Restless  again  —  up  and  off  to  Sivert  once  more. 
"That's  the  way,  Sivert  man;  getting  on  finely. 
Your  father's  turning  out  culverts  like  a  poet,  there'll 
be  more  than  I  ever  thought.  Run  across  and  get 
some  now,  and  we'll  make  a  start." 

All  that  afternoon  was  one  hurrying  spell;  Sivert 
had  never  seen  such  a  furious  piece  of  work;  he  was 
not  accustomed  to  see  things  done  at  that  pace. 
They  hardly  gave  themselves  time  to  eat.  But  the 
water  was  flowing  already!  Here  and  there  they 
had  to  dig  deeper,  a  culvert  had  to  be  raised  or 
lowered,  but  it  flowed.  The  three  men  were  at  it  till 
late  that  night,  touching  up  their  work,  and  keenly 
on  the  look  out  for  any  fault.  But  when  the  water 
began  to  trickle  out  over  the  driest  spots,  there  was 

217 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

joy  and  delight  at  Sellanraa.  "  I  forgot  to  bring 
my  watch,"  said  Geissler.  "  What's  the  time,  I 
wonder?  Ay,  she'll  be  green  by  this  time  tomor- 
row I  "  said  he. 

Sivert  got  up  in  the  middle  of  the  night  to  see  how 
things  were  going,  and  found  his  father  out  already 
on  the  same  errand.  Oh,  but  it  was  a  thrilling  time 
—  a  day  of  great  events ! 

But  next  day,  Geissler  stayed  in  bed  till  nearly 
noon,  worn  out  now  that  the  fit  had  passed.  He  did 
not  trouble  to  go  up  and  look  at  the  boat  on  the 
lake;  and  but  for  what  he  had  said  the  day  before, 
he  would  never  have  bothered  to  look  at  the  saw- 
mill. Even  the  irrigation  works  interested  him  less 
than  at  first  —  and  when  he  saw  that  neither  field 
nor  meadow  had  turned  green  in  the  course  of  the 
night,  he  lost  heart,  never  thinking  of  how  the  water 
flowed,  and  flowed  all  the  time,  and  spread  out  far- 
ther and  farther  over  the  ground.  He  backed  down 
a  little,  and  said  now:  "It  may  take  time  —  you 
won't  see  any  change  perhaps  before  tomorrow 
again.  But  it'll  be  all  right,  never  fear." 

Later  in  the  day  Brede  Olsen  came  lounging  in;  he 
had  brought  some  samples  of  rock  he  wanted  Geiss- 
ler to  see.  "  And  something  out  of  the  common, 
this  time,  to  my  mind,"  said  Brede. 

Geissler  would  not  look  at  the  things.  "  That 
the  way  you  manage  a  farm,"  he  asked  scornfully, 
"  pottering  about  up  in  the  hills  looking  for  a  for- 
tune?" 

Brede  apparently  did  not  fancy  being  taken  to  task 
218 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

now  by  his  former  chief;  he  answered  sharply,  with- 
out any  form  of  respect,  treating  the  ex-Lensmand 
as  an  equal:  "  If  you  think  I  care  what  you  say  . . ." 

"  You've  no  more  sense  than  you  had  before," 
said  Geissler.  "  Fooling  away  your  time." 

"  What  about  yourself?  "  said  Brede.  "  What 
about  you,  I'd  like  to  know?  You've  got  a  mine  of 
your  own  up  here,  and  what  have  you  done  .with  it? 
Huh!  Lies  there  doing  nothing.  Ay,  you're  the 
sort  to  have  a  mine,  aren't  you?  He  he!  " 

"  Get  out  of  this,"  said  Geissler.  And  Brede  did 
not  stay  long,  but  shouldered  his  load  of  samples  and 
went  down  to  his  own  menage,  without  saying  good- 
bye. 

Geissler  sat  down  and  began  to  look  over  some 
papers  with  a  thoughtful  air.  He  seemed  to  have 
caught  a  touch  of  the  fever  himself,  and  wanted 
now  to  look  over  that  business  of  the  copper  mine, 
the  contract,  the  analyses.  It  was  fine  ore,  almost 
pure  copper;  he  must  do  something  with  it,  and  not 
let  everything  slide. 

"  What  I  really  came  up  for  was  to  get  the  whole 
thing  settled,"  he  said  to  Isak.  "  I've  been  think- 
ing of  making  a  start  here,  and  that  very  soon.  Get 
a  lot  of  men  to  work,  and  run  the  thing  properly. 
What  do  you  think?" 

Isak  felt  sorry  for  the  man,  and  would  not  say 
anything  against  it. 

"  It's  a  matter  that  concerns  you  as  well,  you 
know.  There'll  be  a  lot  of  bother,  of  course;  a  lot 
of  men  about  the  place,  and  a  bit  rowdy  at  times, 

219 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

perhaps.  And  blasting  up  in  the  hills  —  I  don't 
know  how  you'll  like  that.  On  the  other  hand, 
there'll  be  more  life  in  the  district  where  we  begin, 
and  you'll  have  a  good  market  close  at  hand  for  farm 
produce  and  that  sort  of  thing.  Fix  your  own  price, 
too." 

"  Ay,"  said  Isak. 

"  Besides  your  share  in  the  mine  —  you'll  get  a 
high  percentage  of  earnings,  you  know.  Big  money, 
Isak." 

Said  Isak:  "You've  paid  me  fairly  already,  and 
more  than  enough.  .  .  ." 

Next  morning  Geissler  left,  hurrying  off  eastward, 
over  toward  Sweden.  "  No,  thanks,"  he  said 
shortly,  when  Isak  offered  to  go  with  him.  It  was 
almost  painful  to  see  him  start  off  in  that  poor  fash- 
ion, on  foot  and  all  alone.  Inger  had  put  up  a  fine 
parcel  of  food  for  him  to  take,  all  as  nice  as  she 
could  make  it,  and  made  some  wafers  specially  to 
put  in.  Even  that  was  not  enough ;  she  would  have 
given  him  a  can  of  cream  and  a  whole  lot  of  eggs, 
but  he  wouldn't  carry  them,  and  Inger  was  disap- 
pointed. 

Geissler  himself  must  have  found  it  hard  to  leave 
Sellanraa  without  paying  as  he  generally  did  for  his 
keep;  so  he  pretended  that  he  had  paid;  made  as  if 
he  had  laid  down  a  big  note  in  payment,  and  said  to 
little  Leopoldine :  "  Here,  child,  here's  something 
for  you  as  well."  And  with  that  he  gave  her  the 
silver  box,  his  tobacco  box.  "  You  can  rinse  it  out 
and  use  it  to  keep  pins  and  things  in,"  he  said.  "  It's 

22O 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

not  the  sort  of  thing  for  a  present  really.  If  I  were 
at  home  I  could  have  found  her  something  else ;  I've 
a  heap  of  things.  .  .  ." 

But  Geissler's  waterwork  remained  after  Geissler 
had  gone;  there  it  was,  working  wonders  day  and 
night,  week  after  week;  the  fields  turned  green,  the 
potatoes  ceased  to  flower,  the  corn  shot  up.  .  .  . 

The  settlers  from  the  holdings  farther  down  be- 
gan to  come  up,  all  anxious  to  see  the  marvel  for 
themselves.  Axel  Strom, —  the  neighbour  from 
Maaneland,  the  man  who  had  no  wife,  and  no 
woman  to  help  him,  but  managed  for  himself, —  he 
came  too.  He  was  in  a  good  humour  that  day;  he 
told  them  how  he  had  just  got  a  promise  of  a  girl 
to  help  through  the  summer  —  and  that  was  a 
weight  off  his  mind.  He  did  not  say  who  the  girl 
was,  and  Isak  did  not  ask,  but  it  was  Brede's  girl 
Barbro  who  was  to  come.  It  would  cost  the  price 
of  a  telegram  to  Bergen  to  fetch  her;  but  Axel  paid 
the  money,  though  he  was  not  one  of  your  extrava- 
gant sort,  but  rather  something  of  a  miser. 

It  was  the  waterwork  business  that  had  enticed 
him  up  today;  he  had  looked  it  over  from  one  end 
to  the  other,  and  was  highly  interested.  There  was 
no  big  river  on  his  land,  but  he  had  a  bit  of  a  stream; 
he  had  no  planks,  either,  to  make  culverts  with,  but 
he  would  dig  his  channels  in  the  earth;  it  could  be 
done.  Up  to  now,  things  were  not  absolutely  at 
their  worst  on  his  land,  which  lay  lower  down  the 
slopes;  but  if  the  drought  continued,  he,  too,  would 
have  to  irrigate.  When  he  had  seen  what  he 

221 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

wanted,  he  took  his  leave  and  went  back  at  once. 
No,  he  would  not  come  in,  hadn't  the  time;  he  was 
going  to  start  ditching  that  same  evening.  And  off 
he  went. 

This  was  something  different  from  Brede's  way. 

Oh,  Brede,  he  could  run  about  the  moorland 
farms  now  telling  news:  miraculous  waterworks  at 
Sellanraa !  "  It  doesn't  pay  to  work  your  soil  over- 
much," he  had  said.  "  Look  at  Isak  up  there;  he's 
dug  and  dug  about  so  long  that  at  last  he's  had  to 
water  the  whole  ground." 

Isak  was  patient,  but  he  wished  many  a  time 
that  he  could  get  rid  of  the  fellow,  hanging  about 
Sellanraa  with  his  boastful  ways.  Brede  put  it  all 
down  to  the  telegraph;  as  long  as  he  was  a  public 
official,  it  was  his  duty  to  keep  the  line  in  order. 
But  the  telegraph  company  had  already  had  occa- 
sion several  times  to  reprimand  him  for  neglect,  and 
had  again  offered  the  post  to  Isak.  No,  it  was  not 
the  telegraph  that  was  in  Brede's  mind  all  the  time, 
but  the  ore  up  in  the  hills ;  it  was  his  one  idea  now, 
a  mania. 

He  took  to  dropping  in  often  now  at  Sellanraa, 
confident  that  he  had  found  the  treasure;  he  would 
nod  his  head  and  say:  "  I  can't  tell  you  all  about 
it  yet,  but  I  don't  mind  saying  I've  struck  something 
remarkable  this  time."  Wasting  hours  and  energy 
all  for  nothing.  And  when  he  came  back  in  the 
evening  to  his  little  house,  he  would  fling  down  a 
little  sack  of  samples  on  the  floor,  and  puff  and  blow 
after  his  day's  work,  as  if  no  man  could  have  toiled 

222 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

harder  for  his  daily  bread.  He  grew  a  few  pota- 
toes on  sour,  peaty  soil,  and  cut  the  tufts  of  grass 
that  grew  by  themselves  on  the  ground  about  the 
house  —  that  was  Brede's  farming.  He  was  never 
made  for  a  farmer,  and  there  could  be  but  one  end  to 
it  all.  His  turf  roof  was  falling  to  pieces  already, 
and  the  steps  to  the  kitchen  were  rotten  with  damp ; 
a  grindstone  lay  on  the  ground,  and  the  cart  was 
still  left  uncovered  in  the  open. 

Brede  was  fortunate  perhaps  in  that  such  little 
matters  never  troubled  him.  When  the  children 
rolled  his  grindstone  about  for  play,  he  was  kind 
and  indulgent,  and  would  even  help  them  to  roll 
it  himself.  An  easy-going,  idle  nature,  never  seri- 
ous, but  also  never  down-hearted,  a  weak,  irresponsi- 
ble character;  but  he  managed  to  find  food,  such 
as  it  was,  and  kept  himself  and  his  alive  from  day  to 
day;  managed  to  keep  them  somehow.  But  it  was 
not  to  be  expected  that  the  storekeeper  could  go  on 
feeding  Brede  and  his  family  for  ever;  he  had  said 
so  more  than  once  to  Brede  himself,  and  he  said 
it  now  in  earnest.  Brede  admitted  he  was  right, 
and  promised  to  turn  over  a  new  leaf  —  he  would 
sell  his  place,  and  very  likely  make  a  good  thing 
out  of  it  —  and  pay  what  he  owed  at  the  store ! 

Oh,  but  Brede  would  sell  out  anyhow,  even  at  a 
loss;  what  was  the  good  of  a  farm  for  him?  He 
was  home-sick  for  the  village  again,  the  easy  gos- 
siping life  there,  and  the  little  shop  —  it  suited  him 
better  than  settling  down  here  to  work,  and  trying 
to  forget  the  world  outside.  Could  he  ever  forget 

223 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

the  Christmas  trees  and  parties,  or  the  national 
feastings  on  Constitution  Day,  or  the  bazaars  held 
in  the  meeting-rooms?  He  loved  to  talk  with  his 
kind,  to  exchange  news  and  views,  but  who  was  there 
to  talk  with  here?  Inger  up  at  Sellanraa  had 
seemed  to  be  one  of  his  sort  for  a  while,  but  then 
she  had  changed  —  there  was  no  getting  a  word  out 
of  her  now.  And  besides,  she  had  been  in  prison; 
and  for  a  man  in  his  position  —  no,  it  would  never 
do. 

No,  he  had  made  a  mistake  in  ever  leaving  the 
village;  it  was  throwing  himself  away.  He  noted 
with  envy  that  the  Lensmand  had  got  another  as- 
sistant, and  the  doctor  another  man  to  drive  for 
him;  he  had  run  away  from  the  people  who  needed 
him,  and  now  that  he  was  no  longer  there,  they  man- 
aged without  him.  But  the  men  who  had  taken  his 
place  —  they  were  no  earthly  good,  of  course. 
Properly  speaking,  he,  Brede,  ought  to  be  fetched 
back  to  the  village  in  triumph ! 

Then  there  was  Barbro  —  why  had  he  backed  up 
the  idea  of  getting  her  to  go  as  help  to  Sellanraa? 
Well,  that  was  after  talking  over  things  with  his 
wife.  If  all  went  well,  it  might  mean  a  good  future 
for  the  girl,  perhaps  a  future  of  a  sort  for  all  of 
them.  All  very  well  to  be  housekeeper  for  two 
young  clerks  in  Bergen,  but  who  could  say  what  she 
would  get  out  of  that  in  the  long  run?  Barbro  was 
a  pretty  girl,  and  liked  to  look  well;  there  might  be 
a  better  chance  for  her  here,  after  all.  For  there 
were  two  sons  at  Sellanraa. 

224 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

But  when  Brede  saw  that  this  plan  would  never 
come  to  anything,  he  hit  on  another.  After  all, 
there  was  no  great  catch  in  marrying  into  Inger's 
lot  —  Inger  who  had  been  in  prison.  And  there 
were  other  lads  to  be  thought  of  besides  those  two 
Sellanraa  boys  —  there  was  Axel  Strom,  for  in- 
stance. He  had  a  farm  and  a  hut  of  his  own,  he 
was  a  man  who  scraped  and  saved  and  little  by 
little  managed  to  get  hold  of  a  bit  of  live  stock 
and  such-like,  but  with  no  wife,  and  no  woman  to 
help  him.  "  Well,  I  don't  mind  telling  you,  if  you 
take  Barbro,  she'll  be  all  the  help  you'll  need,"  said 
Brede  to  him.  "  Look,  here's  her  picture;  you  can 
see." 

And  after  a  week  or  so,  came  Barbro.  Axel  was 
in  the  midst  of  his  haymaking,  and  had  to  do  his 
mowing  by  day  and  haymaking  by  night,  and  all 
by  himself  —  and  then  came  Barbro !  It  was  a 
godsend.  Barbro  soon  showed  she  was  not  afraid 
of  work;  she  washed  clothes  and  cleaned  things, 
cooked  and  milked  and  helped  in  the  hayfield — 
helped  to  carry  in  the  hay,  she  did.  Axel  deter- 
mined to  give  her  good  wages,  and  not  lose  by  it. 

She  was  not  merely  a  photograph  of  a  fine  lady 
here.  Barbro  was  straight  and  thin,  spoke  some- 
what hoarsely,  showed  sense  and  experience  in  vari- 
ous ways  —  she  was  not  a  child.  Axel  wondered 
what  made  her  so  thin  and  haggard  in  the  face. 
"  I'd  know  you  by  your  looks,"  he  said;  "  but  you're 
not  like  the  photograph." 


225 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

'  That's  only  the  journey,"  she  said,  "  and  living 
in  town  air  all  that  time." 

And  indeed,  she  very  soon  grew  plump  and  well- 
looking  again.  "  Take  my  word  for  it,"  said  Bar- 
bro,  "  it  pulls  you  down  a  bit,  a  journey  like  that, 
and  living  in  town  like  that."  She  hinted  also  at  the 
temptations  of  life  in  Bergen  —  one  had  to  be  care- 
ful there.  But  while  they  sat  talking,  she  begged 
him  to  take  in  a  paper  —  a  Bergen  newspaper  —  so 
that  she  could  read  a  bit  and  see  the  news  of  the 
world.  She  had  got  accustomed  to  reading,  and 
theatres  and  music,  and  it  was  so  dull  in  a  place 
like  this. 

Axel  was  pleased  with  the  results  of  his  summer 
help,  and  took  in  a  paper.  He  also  bore  with  the 
frequent  visits  of  the  Brede  family,  who  were  con- 
stantly dropping  in  at  his  place  and  eating  and 
drinking.  He  was  anxious  to  show  that  he  appre- 
ciated this  servant-girl  of  his.  And  what  could  be 
nicer  and  homelier  than  when  Barbro  sat  there  of  a 
Sunday  evening  twanging  the  strings  of  a  guitar  and 
singing  a  little  with  her  hoarse  voice?  Axel  was 
touched  by  it  all,  by  the  pretty,  strange  songs,  by 
the  mere  fact  that  some  one  really  sat  there  singing 
on  his  poor  half-baked  farm. 

True,  in  the  course  of  the  summer  he  learned  to 
know  other  sides  of  Barbro's  character,  but  on  the 
whole,  he  was  content.  She  had  her  fancies,  and 
could  answer  hastily  at  times;  was  somewhat  over- 
quick  to  answer  back.  That  Saturday  evening,  for 
instance,  when  Axel  himself  had  to  go  down  to  the 

226 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

village  to  get  some  things,  it  was  wrong  of  Barbro 
to  run  away  from  the  hut  and  the  animals  and  leave 
the  place  to  itself.  They  had  a  few  words  over 
that.  And  where  had  she  been?  Only  to  her 
home,  to  Breidablik,  but  still  .  .  .  When  Axel  came 
back  to  the  hut  that  night,  Barbro  was  not  there;  he 
looked  to  the  animals,  got  himself  something  to  eat, 
and  turned  in.  Towards  morning  Barbro  came. 
"  I  only  wanted  to  see  what  it  was  like  to  step  on  a 
wooden  floor  again,"  she  said,  somewhat  scornfully. 
And  Axel  could  find  nothing  much  to  say  to  that, 
seeing  that  he  had  as  yet  but  a  turf  hut  with  a  floor 
of  beaten  earth.  He  did  say,  however,  that  if  it 
came  to  that,  he  could  get  a  few  planks  himself,  and 
no  doubt  but  he'd  have  a  house  with  a  wooden  floor 
himself  in  time!  Barbro  seemed  penitent  at  that; 
she  was  not  altogether  unkindly.  And  for  all  it  was 
Sunday,  she  went  off  at  once  to  the  woods  and  gath- 
ered fresh  jumper  twigs  to  spread  on  the  earthen 
floor. 

And  then,  seeing  she  was  so  fine-hearted  and  be- 
haved so  splendidly,  what  could  Axel  do  but  bring 
out  the  kerchief  he  had  bought  for  her  the  evening 
before,  though  he  had  really  thought  of  keeping  it 
by  a  while,  and  getting  something  respectable  out 
of  her  in  return.  And  there !  she  was  pleased  with 
it,  and  tried  it  on  at  once  —  ay,  she  turned  to  him 
and  asked  if  she  didn't  look  nice  in  it.  And  yes, 
indeed  she  did;  and  she  might  put  on  his  old  fur  cap 
if  she  liked,  and  she'd  look  nice  in  that!  Barbro 
laughed  at  this  and  tried  to  say  something  really  nice 

227 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

in  return;  she  said:  "I'd  far  rather  go  to  church 
and  communion  in  this  kerchief  than  wear  a  hat. 
In  Bergen,  of  course,  we  always  wore  hats  —  all 
except  common  servant-girls  from  the  country." 

Friends  .again,  as  nice  as  could  be. 

And  when  Axel  brought  out  the  newspaper  he  had 
fetched  from  the  post  office,  Barbro  sat  down  to  read 
news  of  the  world:  of  a  burglary  at  a  jeweller's  shop 
in  one  Bergen  street,  and  a  quarrel  between  two 
gipsies  in  another;  of  a  horrible  find  in  the  harbour 
—  the  dead  body  of  a  newborn  child  sewed  up  in  an 
old  shirt  with  the  sleeves  cut  off.  "  I  wonder  who 
can  have  done  it?  "  said  Barbro.  And  she  read  the 
list  of  marketing  prices  too,  as  she  always  did. 

So  the  summer  passed. 


228 


Chapter  XVI 


GREAT  changes  at  Sellanraa. 
There  was  no  knowing  the  place  again, 
after  what  it  had  been  at  first:  sawmill, 
cornmill,   buildings   of   all   sorts   and   kinds  —  the 
wilderness  was  peopled  country  now.     And  there 
was  more   to  come.     But  Inger  was  perhaps  the 
strangest  of  all;  so  altered  she  was,  and  good  and 
clever  again. 

The  great  event  of  last  year,  when  things  had 
come  to  a  head,  was  hardly  enough  in  itself,  perhaps, 
to  change  her  careless  ways;  there  was  backsliding 
now  and  then,  as  when  she  found  herself  beginning 
to  talk  of  the  "  Institute  "  again,  and  the  cathedral 
at  Trondhjem.  Oh,  innocent  things  enough;  and 
she  took  off  her  ring,  and  let  down  that  bold  skirt 
of  hers  some  inches.  She  was  grown  thoughtful, 
there  was  more  quiet  about  the  place,  and  visits  were 
less  frequent;  the  girls  and  women  from  the  village 
came  but  rarely  now,  for  Inger  no  longer  cared  to 
see  them.  No  one  can  live  in  the  depth  of  the  wilds 
/*  and  have  time  for  such  foolishness.  Happiness  and 
nonsense  are  two  different  things. 

In  the  wilds,  each  season  has  its  wonders,  but  al- 
ways, unchangingly,  there  is  that  immense  heavy 
sound  of  heaven  and  earth,  the  sense  of  being  sur- 

229 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

rounded  on  all  sides,  the  darkness  of  the  forest,  the 
kindliness  of  the  trees.  All  is  heavy  and  soft,  no 
thought  is  impossible  there.  North  of  Sellanraa 
there  was  a  little  tarn,  a  mere  puddle,  no  bigger 
than  an  aquarium.  There  lived  some  tiny  baby  fish 
that  never  grew  bigger,  lived  and  died  there  and 
were  no  use  at  all  —  Herregud!  no  use  on  earth. 
One  evening  Inger  stood  there  listening  for  the  cow- 
bells; all  was  dead  about  her,  she  heard  nothing, 
and  then  came  a  song  from  the  tarn.  A  little,  little 
song,  hardly  there  at  all,  almost  lost.  It  was  the 
tiny  fishes'  song. 

They  had  this  good  fortune  at  Sellanraa,  that 
every  spring  and  autumn  they  could  see  the  grey 
geese  sailing  in  fleets  above  that  wilderness,  and  hear 
their  chatter  up  in  the  air  —  delirious  talk  it  was. 
And  as  if  the  world  stood  still  for  a  moment,  till 
the  train  of  them  had  passed.  And  the  human  souls 
beneath,  did  they  not  feel  a  weakness  gliding  through 
them  now?  They  went  to  their  work  again,  but 
drawing  breath  first;  something  had  spoken  to  them, 
something  from  beyond. 

Great  marvels  were  about  them  at  all  times ;  in  the 
winter  were  the  stars;  in  winter  often,  too,  the 
northern  lights,  a  firmament  of  wings,  a  conflagra- 
tion in  the  mansions  of  God.  Now  and  then,  not 
often ;  not  commonly,  but  now  and  then,  they  heard 
the  thunder.  It  came  mostly  in  the  autumn,  and  a 
dark  and  solemn  thing  it  was  for  man  and  beast; 
the  animals  grazing  near  home  would  bunch  to- 

230 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

gather  and  stand  waiting.  Bowing  their  heads  — 
what  for?  Waiting  for  the  end?  And  man,  what 
of  man  standing  in  the  wilds  with  bowed  head,  wait- 
ing, when  the  thunder  came?  Waiting  for  what? 

The  spring  —  ay,  with  its  haste  and  joy  and  mad- 
cap delight;  but  the  autumn!  It  called  up  a  fear  of 
darkness,  drove  one  to  an  evening  prayer;  there  were 
visions  about,  and  warnings  on  the  air.  Folks  might 
go  out  one  day  in  autumn  seeking  for  something' — 
the  man  for  a  piece  of  timber  to  his  work,  the 
woman  after  cattle  that  ran  wild  now  after  mush- 
room growths:  they  would  come  home  with  many 
secrets  in  their  mind.  Did  they  tread  unexpectedly 
upon  an  ant,  crushing  its  hind  part  fast  to  the  path, 
so  the  fore  part  could  not  free  itself  again?  Or 
step  too  near  a  white  grouse  nest,  putting  up  a  flut- 
tering hissing  mother  to  dash  against  them?  Even 
the  big  cow-mushrooms  are  not  altogether  meaning- 
less; not  a  mere  white  emptiness  in  the  eye.  The 
big  mushroom  does  not  flower,  it  does  not  move,  but 
there  is  something  overturning  in  the  look  of  it;  it 
is  a  monster,  a  thing  like  a  lung  standing  there  alive 
and  naked  —  a  lung  without  a  body. 

Inger  grew  despondent  at  last,  the  wilds  op- 
pressed her,  she  turned  religious.  How  could  she 
help  it?  No  one  can  help  it  in  the  wilds;  life  there 
is  not  all  earthly  toil  and  worldliness;  there  is  piety 
and  the  fear  of  death  and  rich  superstition.  Inger, 
maybe,  felt  that  she  had  more  reason  than  others 
to  fear  the  judgment  of  Heaven,  and  it  would  not 
pass  her  by;  she  knew  how  God  walked  about  in  the 

231 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

evening  time  looking  out  over  all  His  wilderness 
with  fabulous  eyes;  ay,  He  would  find  her.  There 
was  not  so  much  in  her  daily  life  wherein  she  could 
improve;  true,  she  might  bury  her  gold  ring  deep 
in  the  bottom  of  a  clothes  chest,  and  she  could  write 
to  Eleseus  and  tell  him  to  be  converted  too;  after 
that,  there  was  nothing  more  she  could  find  beyond 
doing  her  work  well  and  not  sparing  herself.  Ay, 
one  thing  more;  she  could  dress  in  humble  things, 
only  fastening  a  blue  ribbon  at  her  neck  of  Sundays. 
False,  unnecessary  poverty  —  but  it  was  the  expres- 
sion of  a  kind  of  philosophy,  self-humiliation,  stoi- 
cism. The  blue  ribbon  was  not  new;  it  had  been 
cut  from  a  cap  little  Leopoldine  had  grown  out  of; 
it  was  faded  here  and  there,  and,  to  tell  the  truth, 
a  little  dirty  —  Inger  wore  it  now  as  a  piece  of 
modest  finery  on  holy  days.  Ay,  it  may  be  that  she 
went  beyond  reason,  feigning  to  be  poor,  striving 
falsely  to  imitate  the  wretched  who  live  in  hovels; 
but  even  so  —  would  her  desert  have  been  greater 
if  that  sorry  finery  had  been  her  best?  Leave  her 
in  peace;  she  has  a  right  to  peace! 

She  overdid  things  finely,  and  worked  harder  than 
she  ought.  There  were  two  men  on  the  place,  but 
Inger  took  the  chance  when  both  were  away  at  once, 
and  set  to  work  herself  sawing  wood;  and  where 
was  the  good  of  torturing  and  mortifying  the  flesh 
that  way?  She  was  so  insignificant  a  creature,  so 
little  worth,  her  powers  of  so  common  a  sort;  her 
death  or  life  would  not  be  noticed  in  the  land,  in  the 
State,  only  here  in  the  wilds.  Here,  she  was  almost 

232 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

great  —  at  any  rate,  the  greatest;  and  she  may  well 
have  thought  herself  worth  all  the  chastening  she 
ordered  and  endured.  Her  husband  said: 

"  Sivert  and  I,  we've  been  talking  about  this;  we're 
not  going  to  have  you  sawing  wood,  and  wearing 
yourself  out." 

"  I  do  it  for  conscience'  sake,"  she  answered. 

Conscience!  The  word  made  Isak  thoughtful 
once  more.  He  was  getting  on  in  years,  slow  to 
think,  but  weighty  when  he  did  come  to  anything. 
Conscience  must  be  something  pretty  strong  if  it 
could  turn  Inger  all  upside  down  like  that.  And 
however  it  might  be,  Inger's  conversion  made  a 
change  in  him  also;  he  caught  it  from  her,  grew 
tame,  and  given  to  pondering.  Life  was  all  heavy- ^ 
like  and  stern  that  winter;  he  sought  for  loneliness,  ( 
for  a  hiding-place.  To  save  his  own  trees  he  had 
bought  up  a  piece  of  the  State  forest  near  by,  with 
some  good  timber,  over  toward  the  Swedish  side, 
and  he  did  the  felling  now  alone,  refusing  all  help. 
Sivert  was  ordered  to  stay  at  home  and  see  that 
his  mother  did  not  work  too  much. 

And  so,  in  those  short  winter  days,  Isak  went  out 
to  his  work  in  the  dark,  and  came  home  in  the  dark; 
it  was  not  always  there  was  a  moon,  or  any  stars, 
and  at  times  his  own  track  of  the  morning  would 
be  covered  with  snow  by  nightfall,  so  he  was  hard 
put  to  it  to  find  his  way.  And  one  evening  some- 
thing happened. 

He  was  nearing  home;  in  the  fine  moonlight  he 
could  see  Sellanraa  there  on  the  hillside,  neat  and 

233 


f. 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

clear  of  the  forest,  but  small,  undergroundish  to  look 
at,  by  reason  of  the  snow  banked  high  against  the 
walls.  He  had  more  timber  now,  and  it  was  to  be 
a  grand  surprise  for  Inger  and  the  children  when 
they  heard  what  use  he  would  make  of  it  —  the  won- 
derful building  he  had  in  mind.  He  sat  down  in 
the  snow  to  rest  a  bit,  not  to  seem  worn  out  when  he 
came  home. 

All  is  quiet  around  him,  and  God's  blessing  on  this 
quiet  and  thoughtf ulness,  for  it  is  nothing  but  good ! 
Isak  is  a  man  at  work  on  a  clearing  in  the  forest, 
and  he  looks  out  over  the  ground,  reckoning  what 
is  to  be  cleared  next  turn;  heaving  aside  great  stones 
in  his  mind  —  Isak  had  a  real  talent  for  that  work. 
There,  he  knows  now,  is  a  deep,  bare  patch  on  his 
ground;  it  is  full  of  ore;  there  is  always  a  metallic 
film  over  every  puddle  of  water  there  —  and  now  he 
will  dig  it  out.  He  marks  out  squares  with  his  eye, 
making  his  plans  for  all,  speculating  over  all;  they 
are  to  be  made  green  and  fruitful.  Oh,  but  a  piece  \ 
of  tilled  soil  was  a  great  and  good  thing;  it  was  like 
right  and  order  to  his  mind,  and  a  delight  beyond  .  . . 

He  got  up,  and  felt  suddenly  confused.  H'm. 
What  had  happened  now?  Nothing,  only  that  he 
had  been  sitting  down  a  bit.  Now  there  is  some- 
thing standing  there  before  him,  a  Being,  a  spirit; 
grey  silk  —  no,  it  was  nothing.  He  felt  strange 
—  took  one  short,  uncertain  step  forward,  and 
walked  straight  into  a  look,  a  great  look,  a  pair  of  I 
eyes.  At  the  same  moment  the  aspens  close  by 
began  rustling.  Now  any  one  knows  that  an  aspen  j 

234 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

can  have  a  horrible  eerie  way  of  rustling  at  times; 
anyhow,  Isak  had  never  before  heard  such  an  utterly 
horrible  rustling  as  this,  and  he  shuddered.  Also 
he  put  out  one  hand  in  front  of  him,  and  it  was 
perhaps  the  most  helpless  movement  that  hand  had 
ever  made. 

But  what  was  this  thing  before  him?  Was  it 
ghost-work  or  reality?  Isak  would  all  his  days 
have  been  ready  to  swear  that  this  was  a  higher 
power,  and  once  indeed  he  had  seen  it,  but  the  thing 
he  saw  now  did  not  look  like  God.  Possibly  the 
Holy  Ghost?  If  so,  what  was  it  standing  there  for 
anyway,  in  the  midst  of  nowhere;  two  eyes,  a  look, 
and  nothing  more  ?  If  it  had  come  to  him,  to  fetch 
away  his  soul,  why,  so  it  would  have  to  be ;  it  would 
happen  one  day,  after  all,  and  then  he  would  go  to 
heaven  and  be  among  the  blest. 

Isak  was  eager  to  see  what  would  come  next;  he 
was  shivering  still;  a  coldness  seemed  to  radiate 
from  the  figure  before  him  —  it  must  be  the  Evil 
One!  And  here  Isak  was  no  longer  sure  of  his 
ground,  so  to  speak.  It  might  be  the  Evil  One  — 
but  what  did  he  want  here?  What  had  he,  Isak, 
been  doing?  Nothing  but  sitting  still  and  tilling 
the  ground,  as  it  were,  in  his  thoughts  —  there  could 
surely  be  no  harm  in  that?  There  was  no  other 
guilt  he  could  call  to  mind  just  then;  he  was  only 
coming  back  from  his  work  in  the  forest,  a  tired  and 
hungry  woodman,  going  home  to  Sellanraa  —  he 
means  no  harm.  .  .  . 

He  took  a  step  forward  again,  but  it  was  only  a 

235 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

little  one,  and,  to  tell  the  truth,  he  stepped  back 
again  immediately.  The  vision  would  not  give  way. 
Isak  knitted  his  brows,  as  if  beginning  to  suspect 
something.  If  it  were  the  Evil  One,  why,  let  it 
be;  the  Evil  One  was  not  all-powerful  —  there  was 
Luther,  for  instance,  who  had  nearly  killed  the  fiend 
himself,  not  to  speak  of  many  who  had  put  him  to 
flight  by  the  sign  of  the  cross  and  Jesu  name.  Not 
that  Isak  meant  to  defy  the  peril  before  him;  it  was 
not  in  his  mind  to  sit  down  and  laugh  in  its  face,  but 
he  certainly  gave  up  his  first  idea  of  dying  and  the 
next  world.  He  took  two  steps  forward  straight 
at  the  vision,  crossed  himself,  and  cried  out:  "In 
Jesu  name !  " 

H'm.  At  the  sound  of  his  own  voice  he  came,  as 
it  were,  to  himself  again,  and  saw  Sellanraa  over  on 
the  hillside  once  more.  The  two  eyes  in  the  air 
had  gone. 

He  lost  no  time  in  getting  home,  and  took  no  steps 
to  challenge  the  spectre  further.  But  when  he 
found  himself  once  more  safely  on  his  own  door- 
slab,  he  cleared  his  throat  with  a  sense  of  power 
and  security;  he  walked  into  the  house  with  lofty 
mien,  like  a  man  —  ay,  a  man  of  the  world. 

Inger  started  at  the  sight  of  him,  and  asked  what 
made  him  so  pale. 

And  at  that  he  did  not  deny  having  met  the  Evil 
One  himself. 

"Where?"  she  asked. 

"  Over  there.     Right  up  towards  our  place." 

Inger  evinced  no  jealousy  on  her  part.  She  did 
236 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

not  praise  him  for  it,  true,  but  there  was  nothing  in 
her  manner  suggestive  of  a  hard  word  or  a  con- 
temptuous kick.  Inger  herself,  you  see,  had  grown 
somewhat  lighter  of  heart  and  kindlier  of  late,  what- 
ever the  cause;  and  now  she  merely  asked: 

"The  Evil  One  himself?" 

Isak  nodded:  as  far  as  he  could  see  it  was  him- 
self and  no  other. 

"  And  how  did  you  get  rid  of  him?  " 

"  I  went  for  him  in  Jesu  name,"  said  Isak. 

Inger  wagged  her  head,  altogether  overwhelmed, 
and  it  was  some  time  before  she  could  get  his  supper 
on  the  table. 

"  Anyhow,"  said  she  at  last,  "  we'll  have  no  more 
of  you  going  out  alone  in  the  woods  by  yourself." 

She  was  anxious  about  him  —  and  it  did  him  good 
to  know  it.  He  made  out  to  be  as  bold  as  ever, 
and  altogether  careless  whether  he  went  alone  or 
in  company;  but  this  was  only  to  quiet  Inger's  mind, 
not  to  frighten  her  more  than  necessary  with  the 
awful  thing  that  had  happened  to  himself.  It  was 
his  place  to  protect  her  and  them  all;  he  was  the 
Man,  the  Leader. 

But  Inger  saw  through  it  also,  and  said:  "  Oh,  I 
know  you  don't  want  to  frighten  me.  But  you  must 
take  Sivert  with  you  all  the  same." 

Isak  only  sniffed. 

'  You  might  be  taken  poorly  of  a  sudden,  taken 
ill  out  in  the  woods  —  you've  not  been  over  well 
lately." 

Isak  sniffed  again.     111?     Tired,  perhaps,   and 

237 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

worn  out  a  bit,  but  ill  ?  No  need  for  Inger  to  start 
worrying  and  making  a  fool  of  him;  he  was  sound 
and  well  enough;  ate,  slept,  and  worked;  his  health 
was  simply  terrific,  it  was  incurable!  Once,  felling 
a  tree,  the  thing  had  come  down  on  top  of  him,  and 
broken  his  ear;  but  he  made  light  of  it.  He  set  the 
ear  in  place  again,  and  kept  it  there  by  wearing  his 
cap  drawn  over  it  night  and  day,  and  it  grew  to- 
gether again  that  way.  For  internal  complaints,  he 
dosed  himself  with  treak  boiled  in  milk  to  make  him 
sweat  —  liquorice  it  was,  bought  at  the  store,  an 
old  and  tried  remedy,  the  Teriak  of  the  ancients. 
If  he  chanced  to  cut  his  hand,  he  treated  the  wound 
with  an  ever-present  fluid  containing  salts,  and  it 
healed  up  in  a  few  days.  No  doctor  was  ever  sent 
for  to  Sellanraa. 

No,  Isak  was  not  ill.  A  meeting  with  the  Evil 
One  might  happen  even  to  the  healthiest  man.  And 
he  felt  none  the  worse  for  his  adventure  afterwards; 
on  the  contrary,  it  seemed  to  have  strengthened 
him.  And  as  the  winter  drew  on,  and  it  was  not 
such  a  dreadful  time  to  wait  till  the  spring,  he,  the 
Man  and  the  Leader,  began  to  feel  himself  almost 
a  hero :  he  understood  these  things ;  only  trust  to  him 
and  all  would  be  well.  In  case  of  need,  he  could 
exorcise  the  Evil  One  himself ! 

Altogether,  the  days  were  longer  and  lighter  now; 
Easter  was  past,  Isak  had  hauled  up  all  his  timber, 
everything  looked  bright,  human  beings  could 
breathe  again  after  another  winter  gone. 

Inger  was  again  the  first  to  brighten  up;  she  had 
238 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

been  more  cheerful  now  for  a  long  time.  What 
could  it  be?  Ho,  'twas  for  a  very  simple  reason; 
Inger  was  heavy  again;  expecting  a  child  again. 
Everything  worked  out  easily  in  her  life,  no  hitch 
anywhere.  But  what  a  mercy,  after  the  way  she 
had  sinned!  it  was  more  than  she  had  any  right  to 
expect.  Ay,  she  was  fortunate,  fortunate.  Isak 
himself  actually  noticed  something  one  day,  and 
asked  her  straight  out:  "  Looks  to  me  as  if  you're 
on  the  way  again;  what  do  you  say  yourself?  " 

"  Ay,  Lord  be  thanked,  'tis  surely  so,"  she 
answered. 

They  were  both  equally  astonished.  Not  that 
Inger  was  past  the  age,  of  course;  to  Isak's  mind, 
she  was  not  too  old  in  any  way.  But  still,  another 
child  .  .  .  well,  well.  .  .  .  And  little  Leopoldine 
going  to  school  several  times  a  year  down  at  Breida- 
blik  —  that  left  them  with  no  little  ones  about  the 
place  now  —  besides  which,  Leopoldine  herself  was 
grown  up  now. 

Some  days  passed,  and  Isak  resolutely  threw 
away  a  whole  week-end  —  from  Saturday  evening 
till  Monday  morning  —  on  a  trip  down  to  the  vil- 
lage. He  would  not  say  what  he  was  going  for 
when  he  set  out,  but  on  his  return,  he  brought  with 
him  a  girl.  "  This  is  Jensine,"  he  said.  "  Come  to 
help." 

;  'Tis  all  your  nonsense,"  said  Inger.     "  I've  no 
need  of  help  at  all." 

Isak  answered  that  she  did  need  a  help  —  just 
now. 

239 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Need  or  not  —  it  was  a  kind  and  generous 
thought  of  his;  Inger  was  abashed  and  grateful. 
The  new  girl  was  a  daughter  of  the  blacksmith,  and 
she  was  to  stay  with  them  for  the  present;  through 
the  summer,  anyhow,  and  then  they  would  see. 

"  And  I've  sent  a  telegram,"  said  Isak,  "  after 
him  Eleseus." 

This  fairly  startled  Inger;  startled  the  mother. 
A  telegram?  Did  he  mean  to  upset  her  com- 
pletely with  his  thoughtfulness  ?  It  had  been  her 
great  sorrow  of  late  that  boy  Eleseus  was  away 
in  town  —  in  the  evil-minded  town ;  she  had  writ- 
ten to  him  about  God,  and  likewise  explained  to 
him  how  his  father  here  was  beginning  to  sink  under 
the  work,  and  the  place  getting  bigger  all  the  time; 
little  Sivert  couldn't  manage  it  all  by  himself,  and 
besides,  he  was  to  have  money  after  his  uncle  one 
day  —  all  this  she  had  written,  and  sent  him  the 
money  for  his  journey  once  for  all.  But  Eleseus 
was  a  man-about-town  now,  and  had  no  sort  of 
longing  for  a  peasant's  life;  he  answered  something 
about  what  was  he  to  do  anyway  if  he  did  come 
home?  Work  on  a  farm  and  throw  away  all  the 
knowledge  and  learning  he  had  gained?  "  In  point 
of  fact," — •  that  was  how  he  put  it, — "  I've  no  de- 
sire to  come  back  now.  And  if  you  could  send  me 
some  stuff  for  underclothes,  it  would  save  me  getting 
the  things  on  credit."  So  he  wrote.  And  yes,  his 
mother  sent  him  stuff  —  sent  him  remarkable  quan- 
tities of  stuff  from  time  to  time  for  underclothes. 
But  when  she  was  converted,  and  got  religion,  the 

240 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

scales  fell  from  her  eyes,  and  she  understood  that 
Eleseus  was  selling  the  stuff  and  spending  the  money 
on  other  things. 

His  father  saw  it  too.  He  never  spoke  of  it;  he 
knew  that  Eleseus  was  his  mother's  darling,  and  how 
she  cried  over  him  and  shook  her  head;  but  one  piece 
of  finely  woven  stuff  went  after  another  the  same 
way,  and  he  knew  it  was  more  than  any  living  man 
could  use  for  underclothes.  Altogether,  it  came  to 
this :  Isak  must  be  Man  and  Leader  again  —  head 
of  the  house,  and  step  in  and  interfere.  It  had  cost 
a  terrible  lot  of  money,  to  be  sure,  getting  the  store- 
keeper to  send  a  telegram;  but  in  the  first  place,  a 
telegram  could  not  fail  to  make  an  impression  on 
the  boy,  and  also  —  it  was  something  unusually  fine 
for  Isak  himself  to  come  home  and  tell  Inger.  He 
carried  the  servant-girl's  box  on  his  back  as  he  strode 
home;  but  for  all  that,  he  was  proud  and  full  of 
weighty  secrets  as  he  had  been  the  day  he  came  home 
with  that  gold  ring.  .  .  . 

It  was  a  grand  time  after  that.  For  a  long  while, 
Inger  could  not  do  enough  in  the  way  of  showing  her 
husband  how  good  and  useful  she  could  be.  She 
would  say  to  him  now,  as  in  the  old  days :  "  You're 
working  yourself  to  death!"  Or  again:  "  'Tis 
more  than  any  man  can  stand."  Or  again:  "  Now, 
you're  not  to  work  any  more ;  come  in  and  have  din- 
ner —  I've  made  some  wafers  for  you  I  "  And  to 
please  him,  she  said:  "  I  should  just  like  to  know, 
now,  what  you've  got  in  your  mind  with  all  that 
wood,  and  what  you're  going  to  build,  now,  next  ?  " 

241 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

'  Why,  I  can't  say  as  yet,"  said  Isak,  making  a 
mystery  of  it. 

Ay,  just  as  in  the  old  days.  And  after  the  child 
was  born  —  and  it  was  a  little  girl  —  a  great  big 
girl,  fine-looking  and  sturdy  and  sound  —  after  that, 
Isak  must  have  been  a  stone  and  a  miserable  crea- 
ture if  he  had  not  thanked  God.  But  what  was  he 
going  to  build?  It  would  be  more  news  for  Oline 
to  g°  gadding  about  with  —  a  new  building  again 
at  Sellanraa.  A  new  wing  of  the  house  —  a  new 
house  it  was  to  be.  And  there  were  so  many  now  at 
Sellanraa  —  they  had  a  servant-girl ;  and  Eleseus, 
he  was  coming  home;  and  a  brand-new  little  girl- 
child  of  their  own,  just  come  —  the  old  house  would 
be  just  an  extra  room  now,  nothing  more. 

And,  of  course,  he  had  to  tell  Inger  about  it  one 
day;  she  was  so  curious  to  know,  and  though  maybe 
Inger  knew  it  all  beforehand,  from  Sivert, —  they 
two  were  often  whispering  together, —  she  was  all 
surprised  as  any  one  could  be,  and  let  her  arms  fall, 
and  said :  "  'Tis  all  your  nonsense  —  you  don't  mean 
it?" 

And  Isak,  brimming  over  with  greatness  inside,  he 
answered  her:  "Why,  with  you  bringing  I  don't 
know  how  many  more  children  on  the  place,  'tis  the 
least  I  can  do,  it  seems." 

The  two  menfolk  were  out  now  every  day  getting 
stone  for  the  walls  of  the  new  house.  They  worked 
their  utmost  together  each  in  his  own  way:  the  one 
young,  and  with  his  young  body  firmly  set,  quick  to 
see  his  way,  to  mark  out  the  stones  that  would  suit; 

242 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

the  other  ageing  —  tough,  with  long  arms,  and  a 
mighty  weight  to  bear  down  on  a  crowbar.  When 
they  had  managed  some  specially  difficult  feat,  they 
would  hold  a  breathing-space,  and  talk  together  in 
a  curious,  reserved  fashion  of  their  own. 

"  Brede,  he  talks  of  selling  out,"  said  the  father. 

"  Ay,"  said  the  son.  "  Wonder  what  he'll  be 
asking  for  the  place  ?  " 

"  Ay,  I  wonder." 

"  You've  not  heard  anything?  " 

"  No." 

"  I've  heard  two  hundred." 

The  father  thought  for  a  while,  and  said :  "  What 
d'you  think,  '11  this  be  a  good  stone?  " 

"  All  depends  if  we  can  get  this  shell  off  him," 
said  Sivert,  and  was  on  his  feet  in  a  moment,  giving 
the  setting-hammer  to  his  father,  and  taking  the 
sledge  himself.  He  grew  red  and  hot,  stood  up  to 
his  full  height  and  let  the  sledge-hammer  fall;  rose 
again  and  let  it  fall ;  twenty  strokes  alike  —  twenty 
thunder-strokes.  He  spared  neither  tool  nor 
strength;  it  was  heavy  work;  his  shirt  rucked  up 
from  his  trousers  at  the  waist,  leaving  him  bare  in 
front;  he  lifted  on  his  toes  each  time  to  give  the 
sledge  a  better  swing.  Twenty  strokes. 

"  Now!     Let's  look!  "  cried  his  father. 

The  son  stops,  and  asks:  "  Marked  him  any?  " 

And  they  lay  down  together  to  look  at  the  stone ; 
look  at  the  beast,  the  devil  of  a  thing;  no,  not 
marked  any  as  yet. 

"  I've  a  mind  to  try  with  the  sledge  alone,"  said 

243 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

the  father,  and  stood  up.  Still  harder  work  this, 
sheer  force  alone,  the  hammer  grew  hot,  the  steel 
crushed,  the  pen  grew  blunt. 

"  She'll  be  slipping  the  head,"  he  said,  and 
stopped.  "And  I'm  no  hand  at  this  any  more,"  he 
said. 

Oh,  but  he  never  meant  it;  it  was  not  his  thought, 
that  he  was  no  hand  at  the  work  any  more ! 

This  father,  this  barge  of  a  man,  simple,  full  of 
patience  and  goodness,  he  would  let  his  son  strike 
the  last  few  blows  and  cleave  the  stone.  And  there 
it  lay,  split  in  two. 

"  Ay,  you've  the  trick  of  it,"  said  the  father. 
"  H'm,  yes  .  .  .  Breidablik  .  .  .  might  make 
something  out  of  that  place." 

"  Ay,  should  think  so,"  said  the  son. 

"  Only  the  land  was  fairly  ditched  and  turned." 

"  The  house'd  have  to  be  done  up." 

"  Ay,  that  of  course.  Place  all  done  up  — 
'twould  mean  a  lot  of  work  at  first,  but  .  .  .  What 
I  was  going  to  say,  d'you  know  if  your  mother  was 
going  to  church  come  Sunday?  " 

"  Ay,  she  said  something  like  it." 

"  Ho  I  ...  H'm.  Keep  your  eyes  open  now 
and  look  out  for  a  good  big  door-slab  for  the  new 
house.  You  haven't  seen  a  bit  would  do?  " 

"  No,"  said  Sivert 

And  they  fell  to  work  again. 

A  couple  of  days  later  both  agreed  they  had 
enough  stone  now  for  the  walls.  It  was  Friday 

244 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

evening;  they  sat  taking  a  breathing-space,  and  talk- 
ing together  the  while. 

"  H'm  —  what  d'you  say?"  said  the  father. 
"  Should  we  think  it  over,  maybe,  about  Breida- 
blik?" 

"  How  d'you  mean?  "  asked  the  son.  "  What  to 
do  with  it?" 

'  Why,  I  don't  know.  There's  the  school  there, 
and  it's  midway  down  this  tract  now." 

"And  what  then?"  asked  the  son.  "I  don't 
know  what  we'd  do  with  it,  though;  it's  not  worth 
much  as  it  is." 

"  That's  what  you've  been  thinking  of?  " 

"  No,  not  that  way.  .  .  .  Unless  Eleseus  he'd 
like  to  have  the  place  to  work  on." 

"  Eleseus?     Well,  no,  I  don't  know " 

Long  pause,  the  two  men  thinking  hard.  The 
father  begins  gathering  tools  together,  packing  up 
to  go  home. 

"  Ay,  unless  .  .  ."  said  Sivert.  "  You  might  ask 
him  what  he  says." 

The  father  made  an  end  of  the  matter  thus: 
"  Well,  there's  another  day,  and  we  haven't  found 
that  door-slab  yet,  either." 

Next  day  was  Saturday,  and  they  had  to  be  off 
early  to  get  across  the  hills  with  the  child.  Jensine, 
the  servant-girl,  was  to  go  with  them;  that  was  one 
godmother,  the  rest  they  would  have  to  find  from 
among  Inger's  folk  on  the  other  side. 

Inger  looked  nice;  she  had  made  herself  a  dainty 

245 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

cotton  dress,  with  white  at  the  neck  and  wrists. 
The  child  was  all  in  white,  with  a  new  blue  silk  rib- 
bon drawn  through  the  lower  edge  of  its  dress ;  but 
then  she  was  a  wonder  of  a  child,  to  be  sure,  that 
could  smile  and  chatter  already,  and  lay  and  listened 
when  the  clock  struck  on  the  wall.  Her  father  had 
chosen  her  name.  It  was  his  right;  he  was  deter- 
mined to  have  his  say  —  only  trust  to  him!  He  had 
hesitated  between  Jacobine  and  Rebecca,  as  being 
both  sort  of  related  to  Isak;  and  at  last  he  went  to 
Inger  and  asked  timidly:  "What  d'you  think,  now, 
of  Rebecca?" 

"  Why,  yes,"  said  Inger. 

And  when  Isak  heard  that,  he  grew  suddenly  in- 
dependent and  master  in  his  own  house.  "  If  she's 
to  have  a  name  at  all,"  he  said  sharply,  "  it  shall  be 
Rebecca !  I'll  see  to  that." 

And  of  course  he  was  going  with  the  party  to 
church,  partly  to  carry,  and  partly  for  propriety's 
sake.  It  would  never  do  to  let  Rebecca  go  to  be 
christened  without  a  decent  following !  Isak  trimmed 
his  beard  and  put  on  a  red  shirt,  as  in  his  younger 
days;  it  was  in  the  worst  of  the  hot  weather,  but 
he  had  a  nice  new  winter  suit,  that  looked  well 
on  him,  and  he  wore  it.  But  for  all  that,  Isak  was 
not  the  man  to  make  a  duty  of  finery  and  show;  as 
now,  for  instance,  he  put  on  a  pair  of  fabulously 
heavy  boots  for  the  march. 

Sivert  and  Leopoldine  stayed  behind  to  look  after 
the  place. 

Then  they  rowed  in  a  boat  across  the  lake,  and 
246 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

that  was  a  deal  easier  than  before,  when  they  had 
had  to  walk  round  all  the  way.  But  half-way  across, 
as  Inger  unfastened  her  dress  to  nurse  the  child,  Isak 
noticed  something  bright  hung  in  a  string  round 
her  neck;  whatever  it  might  be.  And  in  the  church 
he  noticed  that  she  wore  that  gold  ring  on  her  fin- 
ger. Oh,  Inger  —  it  had  been  too  much  for  her 
after  all  I 


247 


Chapter  XVII 


ELESEUS  came  home. 
He  had  been  away  now  for  some  years, 
and  had  grown  taller  than  his  father,  with 
long  white  hands  and  a  little  dark  growth  on  his 
upper  lip.  He  did  not  give  himself  airs,  but  seemed 
anxious  to  appear  natural  and  kindly;  his  mother, 
was  surprised  and  pleased.  He  shared  the  small 
bedroom  with  Sivert;  the  two  brothers  got  on  well 
together,  and  were  constantly  playing  tricks  on  each 
other  by  way  of  amusement.  But,  naturally,  Ele- 
seus  had  to  take  his  share  of  the  work  in  building 
the  house;  and  tired  and  miserable  it  made  him,  all 
unused  as  he  was  to  bodily  fatigue  of  any  kind.  It 
was  worse  still  when  Sivert  had  to  go  off  and  leave 
it  all  to  the  other  two ;  Eleseus  then  was  almost  more 
of  a  hindrance  than  a  help. 

And  where  had  Sivert  gone  off  to?  Why,  'twas 
Oline  had  come  over  the  hills  one  day  with  word 
from  Uncle  Sivert  that  he  was  dying;  and,  of  course, 
young  Sivert  had  to  go.  A  nice  state  of  things  all 
at  once  —  it  couldn't  have  happened  worse  than  to 
have  Sivert  running  off  just  now.  But  there  was  no 
help  for  it. 

Said  Oline :  "  I'd  no  time  to  go  running  errands, 
and  that's  the  truth;  but  for  all  that  .  .  .  I've 
taken  a  fancy  to  the  children  here,  all  of  them,  and 

248 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

little   Sivert,  and   if   as   I   could  help   him   to   his 
legacy  .  .  ." 

"  But  was  Uncle  Sivert  very  bad,  then?  " 

"  Bad?  Heaven  bless  us,  he's  falling  away  day 
by  day." 

"Was  he  in  bed,  then?" 

"  In  bed?  How  can  you  talk  so  light  and  flighty 
of  death  before  God's  Judgment-seat?  Nay,  he'll 
neither  hop  nor  run  again  in  this  world,  will  your 
Uncle  Sivert." 

All  this  seemed  to  mean  that  Uncle  Sivert  had 
not  long  to  live,  and  Inger  insisted  that  little  Sivert 
should  set  off  at  once. 

But  Uncle  Sivert,  incorrigible  old  knave,  was  not 
on  his  death-bed;  was  not  even  confined  to  bed  at  all. 
When  young  Sivert  came,  he  found  the  little  place 
in  terrible  muddle  and  disorder;  they  had  not  fin- 
ished the  spring  season's  work  properly  yet  —  had 
not  even  carted  out  all  the  winter  manure;  but  as 
for  approaching  death,  there  was  no  sign  of  it  that 
he  could  see.  Uncle  Sivert  was  an  old  man  now, 
over  seventy;  he  was  something  of  an  invalid,  and 
pottered  about  half-dressed  in  the  house,  and  often 
kept  his  bed  for  a  time.  He  needed  help  on  the 
place  in  many  ways,  as,  for  instance,  with  the  herring 
nets  that  hung  rotting  in  the  sheds.  Oh,  but  for 
all  that  he  was  by  no  means  at  his  last  gasp ;  he  could 
still  eat  sour  fish  and  smoke  his  pipe. 

When  Sivert  had  been  there  half  an  hour  and  seen 
how  things  were,  he  was  for  going  back  home  again. 

"  Home?  "  said  the  old  man. 
249 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

'  We're  building  a  house,  and  father's  none  to 
help  him  properly." 

"  Ho !  "  said  his  uncle.  "  Isn't  Eleseus  come 
home,  then?" 

"  Ay,  but  he's  not  used  to  the  work." 

'  Then  why  did  you  come  at  all?  " 

Sivert  told  him  about  Oline  and  her  message,  how 
she  had  said  that  Uncle  Sivert  was  on  the  point  of 
death. 

"  Point  of  death?  "  cried  the  old  man.  "  Said  I 
was  on  the  point  of  death,  did  she?  A  cursed  old 
fool!" 

"Ha  ha  ha!  "said  Sivert. 

The  old  man  looked  sternly  at  him.  "Eh? 
Laugh  at  a  dying  man,  do  you,  and  you  called  after 
me  and  all !  " 

But  Sivert  was  too  young  to  put  on  a  graveyard 
face  for  that;  he  had  never  cared  much  for  his  uncle. 
And  now  he  wanted  to  get  back  home  again. 

"  Ho,  so  you  thought  so,  too?  "  said  the  old  man 
again.  "  Thought  I  was  at  my  last  gasp,  and  that 
fetched  you,  did  it?  " 

"  'Twas  Oline  said  so,"  answered  Sivert. 

His  uncle  was  silent  for  a  while,  then  spoke  again : 

"  Look  you  here.  If  you'll  mend  that  net  of  mine 
and  put  it  right,  I'll  show  you  something." 

"  H'm,"  said  Sivert.     "  What  is  it?  " 

"  Well,  never  you  mind,"  said  the  old  man  sul- 
lenly, and  went  to  bed  again. 

It  was  going  to  be  a  long  business,  evidently. 
Sivert  writhed  uncomfortably.  He  went  out  and 
took  a  look  round  the  place ;  everything  was  shame- 

250 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

fully  neglected  and  uncared  for;  it  was  hopeless  to 
begin  work  here.  When  he  came  in  after  a  while, 
his  uncle  was  sitting  up,  warming  himself  at  the 
stove. 

"  See  that?  "  He  pointed  to  an  oak  chest  on  the 
floor  at  his  feet.  It  was  his  money  chest.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  it  was  a  lined  case  made  to  hold  bot- 
tles, such  as  visiting  justices  and  other  great  folk 
used  to  carry  with  them  when  travelling  about  the 
country  in  the  old  days,  but  there  were  no  bot- 
tles in  it  now;  the  old  man  had  used  it  for  his  docu- 
ments and  papers  as  district  treasurer;  he  kept  his 
accounts  and  his  money  in  it  now.  The  story  ran 
that  it  was  full  of  uncounted  riches;  the  village  folk 
would  shake  their  heads  and  say:  "  Ah !  if  I'd  only  as 
much  as  lies  in  old  Sivert  his  chest !  " 

Uncle  Sivert  took  out  a  paper  from  the  box  and 
said  solemnly:  "  You  can  read  writing,  I  suppose?  " 

Little  Sivert  was  not  by  any  means  a  great  hand 
at  that,  it  is  true,  but  he  made  out  so  much  as  told 
him  he  was  to  inherit  all  that  his  uncle  might  leave 
at  his  death. 

"  There,"  said  the  old  man.  "  And  now  you  can 
do  as  you  please."  And  he  laid  the  paper  back  in 
the  chest. 

Sivert  was  not  greatly  impressed;  after  all,  the 
paper  told  him  no  more  than  he  had  known  before; 
ever  since  he  was  a  child  he  had  heard  say  that  he 
was  to  have  what  Uncle  Sivert  left  one  day.  A 
sight  of  the  treasure  would  be  another  matter. 

"  There's  some  fine  things  in  that  chest,  I  doubt," 
said  he.  251 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

'  There's  more  than  you  think,"  said  the  old  man 
shortly. 

He  was  angry  and  disappointed  with  his  nephew; 
he  locked  up  the  box  and  went  to  bed  again.  There 
he  lay,  delivering  jets  of  information.  "  I've  been 
district  treasurer  and  warden  of  the  public  moneys 
in  this  village  over  thirty  year;  I've  no  need  to  beg 
and  pray  for  a  helping  hand  from  any  man !  Who 
told  Oline,  I'd  like  to  know,  that  I  was  on  my  death- 
bed? I  can  send  three  men,  carriage  and  cart  to 
fetch  a  doctor  if  I  want  one.  Don't  try  your  games 
with  me,  young  man !  Can't  even  wait  till  I'm  gone, 
it  seems.  I've  shown  you  the  document  and  you've 
seen  it,  and  it's  there  in  the  chest  —  that's  all  I've 
got  to  say.  But  if  you  go  running  off  and  leave  me 
now,  you  can  just  carry  word  to  Eleseus  and  tell  him 
to  come.  He's  not  named  after  me  and  called  by 
my  earthly  name  —  let  him  come." 

But  for  all  the  threatening  tone,  Sivert  only 
thought  a  moment,  and  said:  "Ay,  I'll  tell  Eleseus 
to  come." 

Oline  was  still  at  Sellanraa  when  Sivert  got  back. 
She  had  found  time  to  pay  a  visit  lower  down,  to 
Axel  Strom  and  Barbro  on  their  place,  and  came 
back  full  of  mysteries  and  whisperings.  "  That  girl 
Barbro's  filling  out  a  deal  of  late  —  Lord  knows 
what  it  may  mean.  But  not  a  word  that  I've  said 
so!  And  here's  Sivert  back  again?  No  need  to 
ask  what  news,  I  suppose?  Your  Uncle  Sivert's 
passed  away?  Ay,  well,  an  old  man  he  was  and  an 
aged  one,  on  the  brink  of  the  grave.  What  —  not 

252 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

dead?  Well,  well,  we've  much  to  be  thankful  for, 
and  that's  a  solemn  word!  Me  talking  nonsense, 
you  say?  Oh,  if  I'd  never  more  to  answer  for! 
How  was  I  to  know  your  uncle  he  was  lying  there 
a  sham  and  a  false  pretender  before  the  Lord? 
Not  long  to  live,  that's  what  I  said.  And  I'll  hold 
by  it,  when  the  time  comes,  before  the  Throne. 
What's  that  you  say?  Well,  and  wasn't  he  lying 
there  his  very  self  in  his  bed,  and  folding  his  hands 
on  his  breast  and  saying  'twould  soon  be  over?  " 

There  was  no  arguing  with  Oline,  she  bewildered 
her  adversaries  with  talk  and  cast  them  down. 
When  she  learned  that  Uncle  Sivert  had  sent  for 
Eleseus,  she  grasped  at  that  too,  and  made  her  own 
advantage  of  it:  "  There  you  are,  and  see  if  I  was 
talking  nonsense.  Here's  old  Sivert  calling  up  his 
kinsfolk  and  longing  for  a  sight  of  his  own  flesh  and 
blood;  ay,  he's  nearing  his  end!  You  can't  refuse 
him,  Eleseus;  off  with  you  at  once  this  minute  and 
see  your  uncle  while  there's  life  in  him.  I'm  going 
that  way  too,  we'll  go  together." 

Oline  did  not  leave  Sellanraa  without  taking  Inger 
aside  for  more  whisperings  of  Barbro.     "  Not  a 
word  I've  said  —  but  I  could  see  the  signs  of  it! 
And  now  I  suppose  she'll  be  wife  and  all  on  the 
farm  there.     Ay,  there's  some  folk  are  born  to  great  \ 
things,   for  all  they  may  be  small  as  the  sands  of  \ 
the  sea  in  their  beginnings.     And  who'd  have  ever   | 
thought  it  of  that  girl  Barbro !     Axel,  yes,  never 
doubt  but  he's  a  toiling  sort  and  getting  on,  and 
great  fine  lands  and  means  and  all  like  you've  got 

253 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

here  — 'tis  more  than  we  know  of  over  on  our  side 
the  hills,  as  you  know's  a  true  word,  Inger,  being 
born  and  come  of  the  place  yourself.  Barbro,  she'd 
a  trifle  of  wool  in  a  chest;  'twas  naught  but  winter 
wool,  and  I  wasn't  asking  and  she  never  offered  me. 
We  said  but  Goddag  and  Farvel,  for  all  that  I'd 
known  her  from  she  was  a  toddling  child  all  that 
time  I  was  here  at  Sellanraa  by  reason  of  you  being 
away  and  learning  knowledge  at  the  Institute  ..." 

'  There's  Rebecca  crying,"  said  Inger,  breaking 
in  on  Oline.     But  she  gave  her  a  handful  of  wool. 

Then  a  great  thanksgiving  speech  from  Oline: 
ay,  wasn't  it  just  as  she  had  said  to  Barbro  herself 
of  Inger,  and  how  there  was  not  her  like  to  be  found 
for  giving  to  folk;  ay,  she'd  give  till  she  was  bare, 
and  give  her  fingers  to  the  bone,  and  never  complain. 
Ay,  go  in  and  see  to  the  sweet  angel,  and  never  was 
there  a  child  in  the  world  so  like  her  mother  as 
Rebecca  —  no.  Did  Inger  remember  how  she'd 
said  one  day  as  she'd  never  have  children  again? 
Ah,  now  she  could  see !  No,  better  give  ear  to 
them  as  were  grown  old  and  had  borne  children  of 
their  own,  for  who  should  fathom  the  Lord  His 
ways,  said  Oline. 

And  with  that  she  padded  off  after  Eleseus  up 
through  the  forest,  shrunken  with  age,  grey  and 
abject,  and  for  ever  nosing  after  things,  imperish- 
able. Going  to  old  Sivert  now,  to  let  him  know 
how  she,  Oline,  had  managed  to  persuade  Eleseus  to 
come. 

But  Eleseus  had  needed  no  persuading,  there  was 

254 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

no  difficulty  there.  For,  look  you,  Eleseus  had 
turned  out  better,  after  all,  than  he'd  begun;  a 
decent  lad  in  his  way,  kindly  and  easy-going  from  a 
child,  only  nothing  great  in  the  way  of  bodily 
strength.  It  was  not  without  reason  he  had  been 
unwilling  to  come  home  this  time;  he  knew  well 
enough  that  his  mother  had  been  in  prison  for  child- 
murder;  he  had  never  heard  a  word  about  it  there 
in  the  town,  but  at  home  in  the  village  every  one 
would  remember.  And  it  was  not  for  nothing  he 
had  been  living  with  companions  of  another  sort. 
He  had  grown  to  be  more  sensitive  and  finer  feeling 
than  ever  before.  He  knew  that  a  fork  was  really 
just  as  necessary  as  a  knife.  As  a  man  of  business, 
he  used  the  terms  of  the  new  coinage,  whereas,  out 
in  the  wilds,  men  still  counted  money  by  the  ancient 
Daler.  Ay,  he  was  not  unwilling  to  walk  across 
the  hills  to  other  parts;  here,  at  home,  he  was  con- 
stantly forced  to  keep  down  his  own  superiority. 
He  tried  his  best  to  adapt  himself  to  the  others, 
and  he  managed  well;  but  it  was  always  having  to 
be  on  his  guard.  As,  for  instance,  when  he  had  first 
come  back  to  Sellanraa  a  couple  of  weeks  ago,  he 
had  brought  with  him  his  light  spring  overcoat, 
though  it  was  midsummer;  and  when  he  hung  it  up 
on  a  nail,  he  might  just  as  well  have  turned  it  so  as 
to  show  the  silver  plate  inside  with  his  initials,  but 
he  didn't.  And  the  same  with  his  stick  —  his  walk- 
ing-stick. True,  it  was  only  an  umbrella  stick  really, 
that  he  had  dismantled  and  taken  the  framework  off ; 
but  here  he  had  not  used  it  as  he  did  in  town,  swing- 

255 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

ing  it  about  —  only  carried  it  hidden  against  his 
thigh. 

No,  it  was  not  surprising  that  Eleseus  went  across 
the  hills.  He  was  no  good  at  building  houses;  he 
was  good  at  writing  with  letters,  a  thing  not  every 
one  could  do,  but  here  at  home  there  was  no  one  in 
all  the  place  that  set  any  store  by  the  art  of  it  save 
perhaps  his  mother.  He  set  off  gaily  through  the 
woods,  far  ahead  of  Oline;  he  could  wait  for  her 
farther  up.  He  ran  like  a  calf;  he  hurried.  Ele- 
seus had  in  a  way  stolen  off  from  the  farm;  he 
was  afraid  of  being  seen.  For,  to  tell  the  truth,  he 
had  taken  with  him  both  spring  coat  and  walking- 
stick  for  the  journey.  Over  on  the  other  side  there 
might  be  a  chance  of  seeing  people,  and  being  seen 
himself;  he  might  even  be  able  to  go  to  church. 
And  so  he  sweated  happily  under  the  weight  of  an 
unnecessary  spring  coat  in  the  heat  of  the  sun. 

They  did  not  miss  him  at  the  building,  far  from 
it.  Isak  had  Sivert  back  again,  and  Sivert  was 
worth  a  host  of  his  brother  at  that  work;  he  could 
keep  at  it  from  morning  to  night.  It  did  not  take 
them  long  to  get  the  framework  up;  it  was  only 
three  walls,  as  they  were  building  out  from  the 
other.  And  they  had  less  trouble  with  the  timber; 
they  could  cut  their  planks  at  the  sawmill,  which 
gave  them  the  outside  pieces  for  roofing  at  the  same 
time.  And  one  fine  day  there  was  the  house  all  fin- 
ished, before  their  eyes,  roofed,  floored,  and  with 
the  windows  in.  They  had  no  time  for  more  than 

256 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

this  between  the  seasons;  the  boarding  and  painting 
would  have  to  wait. 

And  now  came  Geissler  with  a  great  following 
across  the  hills  from  Sweden.  And  the  men  with 
him  rode  on  horseback  with  glossy-coated  horses 
and  yellow  saddles;  rich  travellers  they  must  be  no 
doubt;  stout,  heavy  men;  the  horses  bowed  under 
their  weight.  And  among  all  these  great  person- 
ages came  Geissler  on  foot.  Four  gentlemen  and 
Geissler  made  up  the  party,  and  then  there  were  a 
couple  of  servants,  each  leading  a  packhorse. 

The  riders  dismounted  outside  the  farm,  and 
Geissler  said:  "  Here's  Isak  —  here's  the  Margrave 
of  the  place  himself.  Goddag,  Isak!  I've  come 
back  again,  you  see,  as  I  said  I  would." 

Geissler  was  the  same  as  ever.  For  all  that  he 
came  on  foot,  his  manner  showed  no  consciousness 
of  inferiority  to  the  rest;  ay,  his  threadbare  coat 
hung  long  and  wretched-looking  down  over  his 
shrunken  back,  but  he  put  on  a  grand  enough  air  for 
all  that.  He  even  said :  "  We're  going  up  into  the 
hills  a  bit,  these  gentlemen  and  myself  —  it'll  do 
them  good  to  get  their  weight  down  a  bit." 

The  gentlemen  themselves  were  nice  and  pleasant 
enough;  they  smiled  at  Geissler's  words,  and  hoped 
Isak  would  excuse  their  coming  rioting  over  his  land 
like  this.  They  had  brought  their  own  provisions, 
and  did  not  propose  to  eat  him  out  of  house  and 
home,  but  they  would  be  glad  of  a  roof  over  their 

257 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

heads  for  the  night.  Perhaps  he  could  put  them  up 
in  the  new  building  there? 

When  they  had  rested  a  while,  and  Geissler  had 
been  inside  with  Inger  and  the  children,  the  whole 
party  went  up  into  the  hills  and  stayed  out  till  even- 
ing. Now  and  again  in  the  course  of  the  afternoon, 
the  folks  at  Sellanraa  could  hear  an  unusually  heavy 
report  from  the  distance,  and  the  train  of  them 
came  down  with  new  bags  of  samples.  "  Blue  cop- 
per," they  said,  nodding  at  the  ore.  They  talked 
long  and  learnedly,  and  consulting  a  sort  of  map 
they  had  drawn;  there  was  an  engineer  among  them, 
and  a  mining  expert;  one  appeared  to  be  a  big  land- 
owner or  manager  of  works.  They  talked  of  aerial 
railways  and  cable  traction.  Geissler  threw  in  a 
word  here  and  there,  and  each  time  as  if  advising 
them;  they  paid  great  attention  to  what  he  said. 

"  Who  owns  the  land  south  of  the  lake?  "  one  of 
them  asked  Isak. 

"  The  State,"  answered  Geissler  quickly.  He 
was  wide  awake  and  sharp,  and  held  in  his  hand  the 
document  Isak  had  once  signed  with  his  mark.  "  I 
told  you  before  —  the  State,"  he  said.  "  No  need 
to  ask  again.  If  you  don't  believe  me,  you  can 
find  out  for  yourself  if  you  please." 

Later  in  the  evening,  Geissler  took  Isak  aside  and 
said:  "  Look  here,  shall  we  sell  that  copper  mine?  " 

Said  Isak:  "  Why,  as  to  that,  'twas  so  that  Lens- 
mand  bought  it  of  me  once,  and  paid  for  it." 

"  True,"  said  Geissler.  "  I  bought  the  ground. 
But  then  there  was  a  provision  that  you  were  to 

258 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

have  a  percentage  of  receipts  from  working  or  sale; 
are  you  willing  to  dispose  of  your  share?  " 

This  was  more  than  Isak  could  understand,  and 
Geissler  had  to  explain.  Isak  could  not  work  a 
mine,  being  a  farmer  and  a  clearer  of  forest  land; 
Geissler  himself  couldn't  run  a  mine  either.  Money, 
capital?  Ho,  as  much  as  he  wanted,  never  fear! 
But  he  hadn't  the  time,  too  many  things  to  do,  al- 
ways running  about  the  country,  attending  to  his 
property  in  the  south,  his  property  in  the  north. 
And  now  Geissler  was  thinking  of  selling  out  to  these 
Swedish  gentlemen  here;  they  were  relatives  of  his 
wife,  all  of  them,  and  rich  men.  "  Do  you  see  what 
I  mean?" 

"  I'll  do  it  what  way  you  please,"  said  Isak. 

A  strange  thing  —  this  complete  confidence 
seemed  to  comfort  Geissler  wonderfully  in  his 
threadbareness.  "  Well,  I'm  not  sure  it's  the  best 
thing  you  could  do,"  he  said  thoughtfully.  Then 
suddenly  he  was  certain,  and  went  on:  "  But  if  you'll 
give  me  a  free  hand  to  act  on  my  discretion,  I  can  do 
better  for  you  at  any  rate  than  you  could  by  your- 
self." 

"  H'm,"  began  Isak.  "  You've  always  been  a 
good  man  to  us  all  here.  .  .  ." 

But  Geissler  frowned  at  that,  and  cut  him  short: 
"  All  right,  then." 

Next  morning  the  gentlemen  sat  down  to  write. 
It  was  a  serious  business;  there  was  first  of  all  a 
contract  for  forty  thousand  Kroner  for  the  sale  of 
the  mine,  then  a  document  whereby  Geissler  made 

259 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

over  the  whole  of  the  money  to  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren. Isak  and  Sivert  were  called  in  to  witness  the 
signatures  to  these.  When  it  was  done,  the  gentle- 
men wanted  to  buy  over  Isak's  percentage  for  a 
ridiculous  sum  —  five  hundred  Kroner.  Geissler 
put  a  stop  to  that,  however.  "  Jesting  apart,"  he 
said. 

Isak  himself  understood  but  little  of  the  whole 
affair;  he  had  sold  the  place  once,  and  got  his  money. 
But  in  any  case,  he  did  not  care  much  about  Kroner 
—  it  was  not  real  money  like  Daler.  Sivert,  on  the 
other  hand,  followed  the  business  with  more  un- 
derstanding. There  was  something  peculiar,  he 
thought,  about  the  tone  of  these  negotiations;  it 
looked  very  much  like  a  family  affair  between  the 
parties.  One  of  the  strangers  would  say:  "  My 
dear  Geissler,  you  ought  not  to  have  such  red  eyes, 
you  know."  Whereto  Geissler  answered  sharply, 
if  evasively:  "No,  I  ought  not,  I  know.  But  we 
don't  all  get  what  we  ought  to  in  this  world!  " 

It  looked  very  much  as  if  Fru  Geissler's  brothers 
and  kinsmen  were  trying  to  buy  off  her  husband, 
secure  themselves  against  his  visits  for  the  future, 
and  get  quit  of  a  troublesome  relation.  As  to  the 
mine,  it  was  worth  something  in  itself,  no  doubt,  no 
one  denied  it;  but  it  lay  far  out  of  the  way,  and  the 
buyers  themselves  said  they  were  only  taking  it  over 
in  order  to  sell  it  again  to  some  one  better  in  a 
position  to  work  it.  There  was  nothing  unreason- 
able in  that.  They  declared  too,  quite  frankly,  that 
they  had  no  idea  what  they  would  be  able  to  get  for 

260 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

it  as  it  stood;  if  it  were  taken  up  and  worked,  then 
the  forty  thousand  might  turn  out  to  be  only  a  frac- 
tion of  what  it  was  worth;  if  it  were  allowed  to  lie 
there  as  it  was,  the  money  was  simply  thrown  away. 
But  in  any  case,  they  wanted  to  have  a  clear  title, 
without  encumbrance,  and  therefore  they  offered 
Isak  five  hundred  Kroner  for  his  share. 

"  I'm  acting  on  his  behalf,"  said  Geissler,  "  and 
I'm  not  going  to  sell  out  his  share  for  less  than  ten 
'per  cent,  of  the  purchase-money." 

"  Four  thousand  I  "  said  the  others. 

"  Four  thousand,"  said  Geissler.  "  The  land  was 
his,  and  his  share  comes  to  four  thousand.  It  wasn't 
mine,  and  I  get  forty  thousand.  Kindly  turn  that 
over  in  your  minds,  if  you  please." 

"  Yes,  but  —  four  thousand  Kroner!  " 

Geissler  rose  from  his  place,  and  said:  "  That,  or 
no  sale." 

They  thought  it  over,  whispered  about  it,  went 
out  into  the  yard,  talking  as  long  as  they  could. 
"  Get  the  horses  ready,"  they  called  to  the  servants. 
One  of  the  gentlemen  went  in  to  Inger  and  paid 
royally  for  coffee,  a  few  eggs,  and  their  lodging. 
Geissler  walked  about  with  a  careless  air,  but  he  was 
wide  awake  all  the  same. 

"  How  did  that  irrigation  work  turn  out  last 
year?  "  he  asked  Sivert. 

"  It  saved  the  whole  crop." 
'  You've  cut  away  that  mound  there  since  I  was 
here  last,  what?  " 

"  Ay." 

261 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

'  You  must  have  another  horse  on  the  farm," 
said  Geissler.  He  noticed  everything. 

One  of  the  strangers  came  up.  "  Now  then,  let's 
get  this  matter  settled  and  have  done  with  it,"  he 
said. 

They  all  went  into  the  new  building  again,  and 
Isak's  four  thousand  Kroner  were  counted  out. 
Geissler  was  given  a  paper,  which  he  thrust  into 
his  pocket  as  if  it  were  of  no  value  at  all.  "  Keep 
that  carefully,"  they  told  him,  "  and  in  a  few  days 
your  wife  shall  have  the  bankbook  sent." 

Geissler  puckered  his  forehead  and  said  shortly: 
"  Very  good." 

But  they  were  not  finished  with  Geissler  yet.  Not 
that  he  opened  his  mouth  to  ask  for  anything;  he 
simply  stood  there,  and  they  saw  how  he  stood 
there:  maybe  he  had  stipulated  beforehand  for  a 
trifle  on  his  own  account.  The  leader  gave  him  a 
bundle  of  notes,  and  Geissler  simply  nodded  again, 
and  said:  "  Very  good." 

"  And  now  I  think  we  ought  to  drink  a  glass  with 
Geissler,"  said  the  other. 

They  drank,  and  that  was  done.  And  then  they 
took  leave  of  Geissler. 

Just  at  that  moment  came  Brede  Olsen  walking 
up.  Now  what  did  he  want?  Brede  had  doubt- 
less heard  the  reports  of  the  blasting  charges  the  day 
before,  and  understood  that  there  was  something  on 
foot  in  the  way  of  mines.  And  now  he  came  up 
ready  to  sell  something  too.  He  walked  straight 
past  Geissler,  and  addressed  himself  to  the  gentle- 

262 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

men;  he  had  found  some  remarkable  specimens  of 
rock  hereabouts,  quite  extraordinary,  some  blood- 
like,  others  like  silver;  he  knew  every  cranny  and 
corner  in  the  hills  around  and  could  go  straight  to 
every  spot;  he  knew  of  long  veins  of  some  heavy 
metal  —  whatever  it  might  be. 

"  Have  you  any  samples?  "  asked  the  mining  ex- 
pert. 

Yes,  Brede  had  samples.  But  couldn't  they  just 
as  well  go  up  and  look  at  the  places  at  once?  It 
wasn't  far.  Samples  —  oh,  sacks  of  them,  whole 
packing-cases  full.  No,  he  had  not  brought  them 
with  him,  they  were  at  home  —  he  could  run  down 
and  fetch  them.  But  it  would  be  quicker  just  to 
run  up  into  the  hills  and  fetch  some  more,  if  they 
would  only  wait. 

The  men  shook  their  heads  and  went  on  their  way. 

Brede  looked  after  them  with  an  injured  air. 
If  he  had  felt  a  glimmer  of  hope  for  the  moment,  it 
was  gone  now;  fate  was  against  him,  nothing  ever 
went  right.  Well  for  Brede  that  he  was  not  easily 
cast  down;  he  looked  after  the  men  as  they  rode 
away,  and  said  at  last:  "  Wish  you  a  pleasant  jour- 
new  !  "  And  that  was  all. 

But  now  he  was  humble  again  in  his  manner  to- 
wards Geissler,  his  former  chief,  and  no  longer 
treated  him  as  an  equal,  but  used  forms  of  respect. 
Geissler  had  taken  out  his  pocket-book  on  some  pre- 
text or  other,  and  any  one  could  see  that  it  was 
stuffed  full  of  notes. 

263 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"  If  only  Lensmand  could  help  me  a  bit,"  said 
Brede. 

"  Go  back  home  and  work  your  land  properly," 
said  Geissler,  and  helped  him  not  a  bit. 

"  I  might  easily  have  brought  up  a  whole  barrow- 
load  of  samples,  but  wouldn't  it  have  been  easier  to 
go  up  and  look  at  the  place  itself  while  they  were 
here?" 

Geissler  took  no  notice  of  him,  and  turned  to 
Isak:  "  Did  you  see  what  I  did  with  that  document? 
It  was  a  most  important  thing  —  a  matter  of  several 
thousand  Kroner.  Oh,  here  it  is,  in  among  a  bundle 
of  notes." 

"Who  were  those  people?"  asked  Brede. 
"  Just  out  for  a  ride,  or  what?  " 

Geissler  had  been  having  an  anxious  time,  no 
doubt,  and  now  he  cooled  down.  But  he  had  still 
something  of  life  and  eagerness  in  him,  enough  to 
do  a  little  more;  he  went  up  into  the  hills  with 
Sivert,  and  took  a  big  sheet  of  paper  with  him,  and 
drew  a  map  of  the  ground  south  of  the  lake  — 
Heaven  knows  what  he  had  in  mind.  When  he 
came  down  to  the  farm  some  hours  later,  Brede  was 
still  there,  but  Geissler  took  no  notice  of  his  ques- 
tions; Geissler  was  tired,  and  waved  him  aside. 

He  slept  like  a  stone  till  next  morning  early,  then 
he  rose  with  the  sun,  and  was  himself  again. 
"  Sellanraa,"  said  he,  standing  outside  and  looking 
all  round. 

"  All  that  money,"  said  Isak;  "  does  it  mean  I'm 
to  have  it  all?" 

264 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"All?"  said  Geissler.  "Heavens,  man,  can't 
you  see  it  ought  to  have  been  ever  so  much  more? 
And  it  was  my  business  really  to  pay  you,  according 
to  our  contract;  but  you  saw  how  things  were  —  it 
was  the  only  way  to  manage  it.  What  did  you  get? 
Only  a  thousand  Daler,  according  to  the  old  reckon- 
ing. I've  been  thinking,  you'll  need  another  horse 
on  the  place  now." 

"  Ay." 

"  Well,  I  know  of  one.  That  fellow  Heyerdahl's 
assistant,  he's  letting  his  place  go  to  rack  and  ruin; 
takes  more  interest  in  running  about  selling  folk  up. 
He's  sold  a  deal  of  his  stock  already,  and  he'll  be 
willing  to  sell  the  horse." 

"  I'll  see  him  about  it,"  said  Isak. 

Geissler  waved  his  hand  broadly  around,  and  said: 
"  Margrave,  landowner  —  that's  you !  House  and 
stock  and  cultivated  land  —  they  can't  starve  you 
out  if  they  try!  " 

"  No,"  said  Isak.  "  We've  all  we  could  wish  for 
that  the  Lord  ever  made." 

Geissler  went  fussing  about  the  place,  and  sud- 
denly slipped  in  to  Inger.  "  Could  you  manage  a  bit 
of  food  for  me  to  take  along  again?"  he  asked. 
"  Just  a  few  wafers  —  no  butter  and  cheese;  there's 
good  things  enough  in  them  already.  No,  do  as  I 
say;  I  can't  carry  more." 

Out  again.  Geissler  was  restless,  he  went  into 
the  new  building  and  sat  down  to  write.  He  had 
thought  it  all  out  beforehand,  and  it  did  not  take 
long  now  to  get  it  down.  Sending  in  an  application 

265 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

to  the  State,  he  explained  loftily  to  Isak  — "  to  the 
Ministry  of  the  Interior,  you  understand.  Yes,  I've 
no  end  of  things  to  look  after  all  at  once." 

When  he  had  got  his  parcel  of  food  and  had  taken 
leave,  he  seemed  to  remember  something  all  of  a 
sudden:  "Oh,  by  the  way,  I'm  afraid  I  owe  you 
something  from  last  time  —  I  took  out  a  note  from 
my  pocket-book  on  purpose,  and  then  stuck  it  in  my 
waistcoat  pocket  —  I  found  it  there  afterwards. 
Too  many  things  to  think  about  all  at  once.  .  .  ." 
He  put  something  into  Inger's  hand  and  off  he  went. 

Ay,  off  went  Geissler,  bravely  enough  to  all  seem- 
ing. Nothing  downcast  nor  anyway  nearing  his 
end;  he  came  to  Sellanraa  again  after,  and  it  was 
long  years  before  he  died.  Each  time  he  went  away 
the  Sellanraa  folk  missed  him  as  a  friend.  Isak  had 
been  thinking  of  asking  him  about  Breidablik,  get- 
ting his  advice,  but  nothing  came  of  it.  And  maybe 
Geissler  would  have  dissuaded  him  there;  have 
thought  it  a  risky  thing  to  buy  up  land  for  cultiva- 
tion and  give  it  to  Eleseus;  to  a  clerk. 


266 


Chapter  XVIII 


UNCLE  SIVERT  died  after  all.  Eleseus 
spent  three  weeks  looking  after  him,  and 
then  the  old  man  died.  Eleseus  arranged 
the  funeral,  and  managed  things  very  well;  got  hold 
of  a  fuchsia  or  so  from  the  cottages  round,  and  bor- 
rowed a  flag  to  hoist  at  half-mast,  and  bought  some 
black  stuff  from  the  store  for  lowered  blinds.  Isak 
and  Inger  were  sent  for,  and  came  to  the  burial. 
Eleseus  acted  as  host,  and  served  out  refreshments 
to  the  guests;  ay,  and  when  the  body  was  carried 
out,  and  they  had  sung  a  hymn,  Eleseus  actually  said 
a  few  suitable  words  over  the  coffin,  and  his  mother 
was  so  proud  and  touched  that  she  had  to  use  her 
handkerchief.  Everything  went  off  splendidly. 

Then  on  the  way  home  with  his  father,  Eleseus 
had  to  carry  that  spring  coat  of  his  openly,  though 
he  managed  to  hide  the  stick  in  one  of  the  sleeves. 
All  went  well  till  they  had  to  cross  the  water  in  a 
boat;  then  his  father  sat  down  unexpectedly  on  the 
coat,  and  there  was  a  crack.  "  What  was  that?  " 
asked  Isak. 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  said  Eleseus. 

But  he  did  not  throw  the  broken  stick  away;  as 
soon  as  they  got  home,  he  set  about  looking  for  a  bit 
of  tube  or  something  to  mend  it  with.  "  We'll  fix 

267 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

it  all  right,"  said  Si  vert,  the  incorrigible.  "  Look 
here,  get  a  good  stout  splint  of  wood  on  either  side, 
and  lash  all  fast  with  waxed  thread.  .  .  ." 

"  I'll  lash  you  with  waxed  thread,"  said  Eleseus. 

"  Ha  ha  ha !  Well,  perhaps  you'd  rather  tie  it 
up  neatly  with  a  red  garter?  " 

"  Ha  ha  ha,"  said  Eleseus  himself  at  that;  but  he 
went  in  to  his  mother,  and  got  her  to  give  him  an  old 
thimble,  filed  off  the  end,  and  made  quite  a  fine  fer- 
rule. Oh,  Eleseus  was  not  so  helpless  after  all, 
with  his  long,  white  hands. 

The  brothers  teased  each  other  as  much  as  ever. 
"Am  I  to  have  what  Uncle  Sivert's  left?"  asked 
Eleseus. 

"  You  have  it?     How  much  is  it?  "  asked  Sivert. 

"  Ha  ha  ha,  you  want  to  know  how  much  it  is 
first,  you  old  miser!  " 

"  Well,  you  can  have  it,  anyway,"  said  Sivert. 

"  It's  between  five  and  ten  thousand." 

"  Daler?  "  cried  Sivert;  he  couldn't  help  it. 

Now  Eleseus  never  reckoned  in  Daler,  but  he 
didn't  like  to  say  no  at  the  time,  so  he  just  nodded, 
and  left  it  at  that  till  next  day. 

Then  he  took  up  the  matter  again.  "  Aren't  you 
sorry  you  gave  me  all  that  yesterday?  "  he  said. 

"Woodenhead!  Of  course  not,"  said  Sivert. 
That  was  what  he  said,  but  —  well,  five  thousand 
Daler  was  five  thousand  Daler ;  and  no  little  sum; 
if  his  brother  were  anything  but  a  lousy  Indian  sav- 
age, he  ought  to  give  back  half. 

"  Well,  to  tell  the  truth,"  explained  Eleseus,  "  I 
268 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

don't  reckon  to  get  fat  on  that  legacy,  after  all." 

Sivert  looked  at  him  in  astonishment.  "  Ho, 
don't  you?" 

"  No,  nothing  special,  that  is  to  say.  Not  what 
you  might  call  par  excellence." 

Eleseus  had  some  notions  of  accounts,  of  course, 
and  Uncle  Sivert's  money-chest,  the  famous  bottle- 
case,  had  been  opened  and  examined  while  he  was 
there;  he  had  had  to  go  through  all  the  accounts 
and  make  up  a  balance  sheet.  Uncle  Sivert  had  not 
set  this  nephew  to  work  on  the  fields  or  mending  of 
herring  nets;  he  had  initiated  him  into  a  complex 
muddle  of  figures,  the  weirdest  book-keeping  ever 
seen.  If  a  man  had  paid  his  taxes  some  years  back 
in  kind,  with  a  goat,  say,  or  a  load  of  dried  cod, 
there  was  neither  flesh  nor  fish  to  show  for  it  now; 
but  old  Sivert  searched  his  memory  and  said,  "  He's 
paid!" 

"  Right,  then  we'll  cross  him  out,"  said  Sivert. 

Eleseus  was  the  man  for  this  sort  of  work;  he  was 
bright  and  quick,  and  encouraged  the  invalid  by  as- 
suring him  that  things  were  all  right;  the  two  had 
got  on  well  together,  even  to  jesting  at  times.  Ele- 
seus was  a  bit  of  a  fool,  perhaps,  in  some  things,  but 
so  was  his  uncle;  and  the  two  of  them  sat  there 
drawing  up  elaborate  documents  in  favour  not  only 
of  little  Sivert  but  also  to  benefit  the  village,  the 
commune  which  the  old  man  had  served  for  thirty 
years.  Oh,  they  were  grand  days !  "  I  couldn't 
have  got  a  better  man  to  help  with  all  this  than  you, 
Eleseus  boy,"  said  Uncle  Sivert.  He  sent  out  and 

269 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

bought  mutton,  in  the  middle  of  the  summer;  fish 
was  brought  up  fresh  from  the  sea,  Eleseus  being 
ordered  to  pay  cash  from  the  chest.  They  lived  well 
enough.  They  got  hold  of  Oline  —  they  couldn't 
have  found  a  better  person  to  invite  to  a  feast,  nor 
one  more  sure  to  spread  abroad  the  news  of  Uncle 
Sivert's  greatness  to  the  end.  And  the  satisfaction 
was  mutual.  "  We  must  do  something  for  Oline, 
too,"  said  Uncle  Sivert,  "  she  being  a  widow  and 
not  well  off.  There'll  be  enough  for  little  Sivert, 
anyhow."  Eleseus  managed  it  with  a  few  strokes 
of  the  pen;  a  mere  codicil  to  the  last  will  and  testa- 
ment, and  lo,  Oline  was  also  a  sharer  in  the  inherit- 
ance. 

"  I'll  look  after  you,"  said  Uncle  Sivert  to  her. 
"  If  so  be  I  shouldn't  get  better  this  time  and  get 
about  again  on  earth  I'll  take  care  you're  not  left 
out."  Oline  declared  that  she  was  speechless,  but 
speechless  she  was  not;  she  wept  and  was  touched 
to  the  heart  and  grateful;  there  was  none  to  com- 
pare with  Oline  for  finding  the  immediate  connec- 
tion between  a  worldly  gift  and  being  "  repaid  a 
thousandfold  eternally  in  the  world  to  come."  No, 
speechless  she  was  not. 

But  Eleseus?  At  first,  perhaps,  he  may  have 
taken  a  bright  enough  view  of  his  uncle's  affairs,  but 
after  a  while  he  began  to  think  things  over  and  talk 
as  well.  He  tried  at  first  with  a  slight  hint:  "  The 
accounts  aren't  exactly  as  they  should  be,"  he  said. 

"  Well,  never  mind  that,"  said  the  old  man. 
"  There'll  be  enough  and  to  spare  when  I'm  gone." 

270 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

'You've  money  outstanding  besides,  maybe?" 
said  Eleseus.  "  In  a  bank,  or  so?  "  For  so  report 
had  said. 

"  H'm,"  said  the  old  man.  "  That's  as  it  may 
be.  But,  anyhow,  with  the  fishery,  the  farm  and 
buildings  and  stock,  red  cows  and  white  cows  and 
all  —  don't  you  worry  about  that,  Eleseus,  my  boy." 

Eleseus  had  no  idea  what  the  fishery  business 
might  be  worth,  but  he  had  seen  the  live  stock; 
it  consisted  of  one  cow,  partly  red  and  partly  white. 
Uncle  Sivert  must  have  been  delirious.  Some  of  the 
accounts,  too,  were  difficult  to  make  out  at  all ;  they 
were  a  muddle,  a  bare  jumble  of  figures,  especially 
from  the  date  when  the  coinage  was  changed;  the 
district  treasurer  had  frequently  reckoned  the  small 
Kroner  as  if  they  were  full  Daler.  No  wonder  he 
fancied  himself  rich !  But  when  everything  was  re- 
duced to  something  like  order,  Eleseus  feared  there 
would  not  be  much  left  over.  Perhaps  not  enough 
to  settle  at  all. 

Ay,  Sivert  might  easily  promise  him  all  that  came 
to  him  from  his  uncle ! 

The  two  brothers  jested  about  it.  Sivert  was  not 
upset  over  the  matter,  not  at  all;  perhaps,  indeed, 
it  might  have  irked  him  something  more  if  he  really 
had  thrown  away  five  thousand  Daler.  He  knew 
well  enough  that  it  had  been  a  mere  speculation, 
naming  him  after  his  uncle ;  he  had  no  claim  to  any- 
thing there.  And  now  he  pressed  Eleseus  to  take 
what  there  was.  "  It's  to  be  yours,  of  course,"  said 
he.  "  Come  along,  let's  get  it  set  down  in  writing. 

271 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

I'd  like  to  see  you  a  rich  man.  Don't  be  too  proud 
to  take  it!  " 

Ay,  they  had  many  a  laugh  together.  Sivert,  in- 
deed, was  the  one  that  helped  most  to  keep  Eleseus 
at  home;  it  would  have  been  much  harder  but  for 
him. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Eleseus  was  getting  rather 
spoiled  again;  the  three  weeks'  idling  on  the  other 
side  of  the  hills  had  not  done  him  any  good.  He 
had  also  been  to  church  there,  and  made  a  show;  ay, 
he  had  even  met  some  girls  there.  Here  at  Sell- 
anraa  there  was  nothing  of  that  sort;  Jensine,  the 
servant-maid,  was  a  mere  nothing,  a  worker  and  no 
more,  rather  suited  to  Sivert. 

"  I've  a  fancy  to  see  how  that  girl  Barbro  from 
Breidablik  turned  out  now  she's  grown  up,"  said 
Eleseus  one  day. 

"  Well,  go  down  to  Axel  Strom's  place  and  see," 
said  Sivert. 

Eleseus  went  down  one  Sunday.  Ay,  he  had  been 
away,  gained  confidence  and  high  spirits  once  more ; 
he  had  tasted  excitement  of  a  sort,  and  he  made 
things  livelier  at  Axel's  little  place.  Barbro  her- 
self was  by  no  means  to  be  despised;  at  any  rate  she 
was  the  only  one  anywhere  near.  She  played  the 
guitar  and  talked  readily;  moreover,  she  did  not 
smell  of  tansy,  but  of  real  scent,  the  sort  you  buy  in 
shops.  Eleseus,  on  his  part,  let  it  be  understood 
that  he  was  only  home  for  a  holiday,  and  would  soon 
be  called  back  to  the  office  again.  But  it  was  not  so 
bad  being  at  home  after  all,  in  the  old  place,  and,  of 

272 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

course,  he  had  the  little  bedroom  to  live  in.     But  it 
was  not  like  being  in  town ! 

"  Nay,  that's  a  true  word,"  said  Barbro. 
"  Town's  very  different  from  this." 

Axel  himself  was  altogether  out  of  it  with  these 
two  town- folk;  he  found  it  dull  with  them,  and  pre- 
ferred to  go  out  and  look  over  his  land.  The  pair 
of  them  were  left  to  do  as  they  liked,  and  Eleseus 
managed  things  grandly.  He  told  how  he  had  been 
over  to  the  neighbouring  village  to  bury  his  uncle, 
and  did  not  forget  to  mention  the  speech  he  had 
made  over  the  coffin. 

When  he  took  his  leave,  he  asked  Barbro  to  go 
part  of  the  way  home  with  him.  But  Barbro,  thank 
you,  was  not  inclined  that  way. 

"  Is  that  the  way  they  do  things  where  you've 
been,"  she  asked — "for  the  ladies  to  escort  the 
gentlemen  home  ?  " 

That  was  a  nasty  hit  for  Eleseus;  he  turned  red, 
and  understood  he  had  offended  her. 

Nevertheless,  he  went  down  to  Maaneland  again 
next  Sunday,  and  this  time  he  took  his  stick.  They 
talked  as  before,  and  Axel  was  out  of  it  altogether, 
as  before.  "  'Tis  a  big  place  your  father's  got," 
said  he.  "  And  building  again,  now,  it  seems." 

"  Ay,  it's  all  very  well  for  him,"  said  Eleseus, 
anxious  to  show  off  a  little.  "  He  can  afford 
it.  It's  another  matter  with  poor  folk  like  our- 
selves." 

"  How  d'you  mean?  " 

"  Oh,   haven't  you  heard?     There's  been  some 

273 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Swedish  millionaires  came  down  the  other  day  and 
bought  a  mine  of  him,  a  copper  mine." 

"  Why,  you  don't  say?  And  he'll  have  got  a  heap 
of  money  for  it,  then?" 

"  Enormous.  Well,  I  don't  want  to  boast,  but  it 
was  at  any  rate  ever  so  many  thousands.  What  was 
I  going  to  say?  Build?  You've  a  deal  of  timber 
lying  about  here  yourself.  When  are  you  going 
to  start?  " 

Barbro  put  in  her  word  here:  "  Never!  " 

Now  that  was  pure  exaggeration  and  imperti- 
nence. Axel  had  got  his  stones  the  autumn  before, 
and  carted  them  home  that  winter;  now,  between 
seasons,  he  had  got  the  foundation  walls  done,  and 
cellar  and  all  else  — •  all  that  remained  was  to  build 
the  timbered  part  above.  He  was  hoping  to  get 
part  of  it  roofed  in  this  autumn,  and  had  thought  of 
asking  Sivert  to  lend  him  a  hand  for  a  few  days 
- — what  did  Eleseus  think  of  that? 

Eleseus  thought  like  as  not.  "  But  why  not  ask 
me?  "  he  said,  smiling. 

'You?"  said  Axel,  and  he  spoke  with  sudden 
respect  at  the  idea.  "  You've  talents  for  other 
things  than  that,  I  take  it." 

Oh,  but  it  was  pleasant  to  find  oneself  appreciated 
here  in  the  wilds !  "  Why,  I'm  afraid  my  hands 
aren't  much  good  at  that  sort  of  work,"  said  Ele- 
seus delicately. 

"  Let  me  look,"  said  Barbro,  and  took  his  hand. 

Axel  dropped  out  of  the  conversation  again,  and 
went  out,  leaving  the  two  of  them  alone.  They 

274 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

were  of  an  age,  had  been  to  school  together,  and 
played  and  kissed  each  other  and  raced  about;  and 
now,  with  a  fine  disdainful  carelessness,  they  talked 
of  old  times  —  exchanging  reminiscences  —  and 
Barbro,  perhaps,  was  inclined  to  show  off  a  little 
before  her  companion.  True,  this  Eleseus  was  not 
like  the  really  fine  young  men  in  offices,  that  wore 
glasses  and  gold  watches  and  so  on,  but  he  could 
pass  for  a  gentleman  here  in  the  wilds,  there  was  no 
denying  that.  And  she  took  out  her  photograph 
now  and  showed  him  —  that's  what  she  looked  like 
then  — "  all  different  now,  of  course."  And  Bar- 
bro sighed. 

"Why,  what's  the  matter  with  you  now?"  he 
asked. 

"  Don't  you  think  I've  changed  for  the  worse  since 
then?" 

"  Changed  for  the  worse,  indeed!  Well,  I  don't 
mind  telling  you  you're  ever  so  much  prettier  now," 
said  he,  "  filled  out  all  round.  For  the  worse? 
Ho!  That's  a  fine  idea!" 

"  But  it's  a  nice  dress,  don't  you  think?  Cut 
open  just  a  bit  front  and  back.  And  then  I  had  that 
silver  chain  you  see  there,  and  it  cost  a  heap  of 
money,  too ;  it  was  a  present  from  one  of  the  young 
clerks  I  was  with  then.  But  I  lost  it.  Not  exactly 
lost  it,  you  know,  but  I  wanted  money  to  come 
home."  ' 

Eleseus  asked:  "  Can  I  have  the  photo  to  keep?  " 

"To  keep?  H'm.  What'll  you  give  me  for 
it?" 

275 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Oh,  Eleseus  knew  well  enough  what  he  wanted  to 
say,  but  he  dared  not.  "  I'll  have  mine  taken  when 
I  go  back  to  town,"  he  said  instead,  "  and  send  it 
you." 

Barbro  put  away  the  photograph.  "  No,  it's  the 
only  one  I've  left." 

That  was  a  stroke  of  darkness  to  his  young  heart, 
and  he  stretched  out  his  hand  towards  the  picture. 

"  Well,  give  me  something  for  it,  now,"  she  said, 
laughing.  And  at  that  he  up  and  kissed  her  prop- 
erly. 

After  that  it  was  easier  all  round;  Eleseus  bright- 
ened up,  and  got  on  finely.  They  flirted  and  joked 
and  laughed,  and  were  excellent  friends.  '  When 
you  took  my  hand  just  now  it  was  like  a  bit  of  swan's 
down  —  yours,  I  mean." 

"  Oh,  you'll  be  going  back  to  town  again,  and 
never  come  back  here,  I'll  be  bound,"  said  Barbro. 

"  Do  you  think  I'm  that  sort?"  said  Eleseus. 

"  Ah,  I  dare  say  there's  a  somebody  there  you're 
fond  of." 

"  No,  there  isn't.  Between  you  and  me,  I'm  not 
engaged  at  all,"  said  he. 

"  Oh  yes,  you  are;  I  know." 

"  No,  solemn  fact,  I'm  not." 

They  carried  on  like  this  quite  a  while;  Eleseus 
was  plainly  in  love.  "  I'll  write  to  you,"  said  he. 
"May  I?" 

'  Yes,"  said  she. 

"  For  I  wouldn't  be  mean  enough  if  you  didn't 
care  about  it,  you  know."  And  suddenly  he  was 

276 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

jealous,  and  asked:  "I've  heard  say  you're  promised 
to  Axel  here;  is  it  true?  " 

"Axel?"  she  said  scornfully,  and  he  brightened 
up  again.  "I'll  see  him  farther!  "  But  then  she 
turned  penitent,  and  added:  "Alex,  he's  good 
enough  for  me,  though.  .  .  .  And  he  takes  in  a 
paper  all  for  me  to  read,  and  gives  me  things  now 
and  again  —  lots  of  things.  I  will  say  that." 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  Eleseus  agreed.  "  He  may  be 
an  excellent  fellow  in  his  way,  but  that's  not  every- 
thing. .  .  ." 

But  the  thought  of  Axel  seemed  to  have  made 
Barbro  anxious;  she  got  up,  and  said  to  Eleseus: 
"  You'll  have  to  go  now;  I  must  see  to  the  animals." 

Next  Sunday  Eleseus  went  down  a  good  deal  later 
than  usual,  and  carried  the  letter  himself.  It  was 
a  letter!  A  whole  week  of  excitement,  all  the 
trouble  it  had  cost  him  to  write,  but  here  it  was 
at  last;  he  had  managed  to  produce  a  letter:  "  To 
Froken  Barbro  Bredesen.  It  is  two  or  three  times 
now  I  have  had  the  inexpressible  delight  of  seeing 
you  again.  .  .  ." 

Coming  so  late  as  he  did  now,  Barbro  must  at 
any  rate  have  finished  seeing  to  the  animals,  and 
might  perhaps  have  gone  to  bed  already.  That 
wouldn't  matter  —  quite  the  reverse,  indeed. 

But  Barbro  was  up,  sitting  in  the  hut.  She  looked 
now  as  if  she  had  suddenly  lost  all  idea  of  being  nice 
to  him  and  making  love  —  Eleseus  fancied  Axel  had 
perhaps  got  hold  of  her  and  warned  her. 

"  Here's  the  letter  I  promised  you,"  he  said. 
277 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

'  Thank  you,"  said  she,  and  opened  it,  and  read 
it  through  without  seeming  much  moved.  "  I  wish 
I  could  write  as  nice  a  hand  as  that,"  she  said. 

Eleseus  was  disappointed.  What  had  he  done 
—  what  was  the  matter  with  her?  And  where  was 
Axel?  He  was  not  there.  Beginning  to  get  tired 
of  these  foolish  Sunday  visits,  perhaps,  and  pre- 
ferred to  stay  away;  or  he  might  have  had  some 
business  to  keep  him  over,  when  he  went  down  to 
the  village  the  day  before.  Anyhow,  he  was  not 
there. 

"  What  d'you  want  to  sit  here  in  this  stuffy  old 
place  for  on  a  lovely  evening? "  asked  Eleseus. 
"  Come  out  for  a  walk." 

"  I'm  waiting  for  Axel,"  she  answered. 

"  Axel?     Can't  you  live  without  Axel,  then?  " 

"  Yes.  But  he'll  want  something  to  eat  when  he 
comes  back." 

Time  went,  time  dribbled  away,  they  came  no 
nearer  each  other;  Barbro  was  as  cross  and  contrary 
as  ever.  He  tried  telling  her  again  of  his  visit 
across  the  hills,  and  did  not  forget  about  the  speech 
he  had  made :  "  'Twasn't  much  I  had  to  say,  but  all 
the  same  it  brought  out  the  tears  from  some  of 
them." 

"Did  it?"  said  she. 

"  And  then  one  Sunday  I  went  to  church." 

"What  news  there?" 

"  News?  Oh,  nothing.  Only  to  have  a  look 
round.  Not  much  of  a  priest,  as  far  as  I  know  any- 
thing about  it;  no  sort  of  manner,  he  had." 

278 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Time  went. 

"  What  d'you  think  Axel'd  say  if  he  found  you 
here  this  evening  again?  "  said  Barbro  suddenly. 

There  was  a  thing  to  say!  It  was  as  if  she  had 
struck  him.  Had  she  forgotten  all  about  last  time? 
Hadn't  they  agreed  that  he  was  to  come  this  even- 
ing? Eleseus  was  deeply  hurt,  and  murmured:  "  I 
can  go,  if  you  like.  What  have  I  done?  "  he  asked 
then,  his  lips  trembling.  He  was  in  distress,  in 
trouble,  that  was  plain  to  see. 

"Done?     Oh,  you  haven't  done  anything." 

"  Well,  what's  the  matter  with  you,  anyway,  this 
evening?  " 

"  With  me  ?  Ha  ha  ha !  —  But  come  to  think  of 
it,  'tis  no  wonder  Axel  should  be  angry." 

"  I'll  go,  then,"  said  Eleseus  again.  But  she  was 
still  indifferent,  not  in  the  least  afraid,  caring  noth- 
ing that  he  sat  there  struggling  with  his  feelings. 
Fool  of  a  woman! 

And  now  he  began  to  grow  angry;  he  hinted  his 
displeasure  at  first  delicately:  to  the  effect  that  she 
was  a  nice  sort  indeed,  and  a  credit  to  her  sex,  huh ! 
But  when  that  produced  no  effect  —  oh,  he  would 
have  done  better  to  endure  it  patiently,  and  say 
nothing.  But  he  grew  no  better  for  that;  he  said: 
"  If  I'd  known  you  were  going  to  be  like  this,  I'd 
never  have  come  this  evening  at  all." 

"  Well,  what  if  you  hadn't?  "  said  she.  "  You'd 
have  lost  a  chance  of  airing  that  cane  of  yours  that 
you're  so  fond  of." 

Oh,  Barbro,  she  had  lived  in  Bergen,  she  knew 
279 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

how  to  jeer  at  a  man;  she  had  seen  real  walking- 
sticks,  and  could  ask  now  what  he  wanted  to  go 
swinging  a  patched-up  umbrella  handle  like  that  for. 
But  he  let  her  go  on. 

"  I  suppose  now  you'll  be  wanting  that  photo- 
graph back  you  gave  me,"  he  said.  And  if  that 
didn't  move  her,  surely  nothing  would,  for  among 
folks  in  the  wilds,  there  was  nothing  counted  so 
mean  as  to  take  back  a  gift. 

"  That's  as  it  may  be,"  she  answered  evasively. 

"  Oh,  you  shall  have  it  all  right,"  he  answered 
bravely.  "  I'll  send  it  back  at  once,  never  fear. 
And  now  perhaps  you'll  give  me  back  my  letter." 
Eleseus  rose  to  his  feet. 

Very  well;  she  gave  him  back  the  letter.  But 
now  the  tears  came  into  her  eyes  as  she  did  so;  this 
servant  girl  was  touched;  her  friend  was  forsaking 
her  —  good-bye  for  ever ! 

"  You've  no  need  to  go,"  she  said.  "  I  don't 
care  for  what  Axel  says'." 

But  Eleseus  had  the  upper  hand  now,  and  must 
use  it;  he  thanked  her  and  said  good-bye.  "  When 
a  lady  carries  on  that  way,"  he  said,  "  there's  noth- 
ing else  to  be  done." 

He  left  the  house,  quietly,  and  walked  up  home- 
ward, whistling,  swinging  his  stick,  and  playing  the 
man.  Huh!  A  little  while  after  came  Barbro 
walking  up;  she  called  to  him  once  or  twice.  Very 
well;  he  stopped,  so  he  did,  but  was  a  wounded  lion. 
She  sat  down  in  the  heather  looking  penitent;  she 
fidgeted  with  a  sprig,  and  a  little  after  he  too  soft- 

280 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

ened,  and  asked  for  a  kiss,  the  last  time,  just  to 
say  good-bye,  he  said.  No,  she  would  not.  "  Be 
nice  and  be  a  dear,  like  you  were  last  time,"  he 
begged,  and  moved  round  her  on  all  sides,  stepping 
quickly,  if  he  could  see  his  chance.  But  she  would 
not  be  a  dear;  she  got  up.  And  there  she  stood. 
And  at  that  he  simply  nodded  and  went. 

When  he  was  out  of  sight,  Axel  appeared  sud- 
denly from  behind  some  bushes.  Barbro  started, 
all  taken  aback,  and  asked:  "What's  that  —  where 
have  you  been?  Up  that  way?  " 

"No;  I've  been  down  that  way,"  he  answered. 
"  But  I  saw  you  two  going  up  here." 

"  Ho,  did  you?  And  a  lot  of  good  it  did  you,  I 
dare  say,"  she  cried,  suddenly  furious.  She  was 
certainly  not  easier  to  deal  with  now.  "  What  are 
you  poking  and  sniffing  about  after,  I'd  like  to  know? 
What's  it  to  do  with  you?  " 

Axel  was  not  in  the  best  ofx  temper  himself. 
"  H'm.  So  he's  been  here  again  today?  " 

;'  Well,  what  if  he  has?  What  do  you  want  with 
him?" 

"  I  want  with  him?  It's  what  you  want  with 
him,  I'd  like  to  ask.  You  ought  to  be  ashamed." 

"Ashamed?  Huh!  The  least  said  about  that, 
if  you  ask  me,"  said  Barbro.  "  I'm  here  to  sit  in  the 
house  like  a  statue,  I  suppose?  What  have  I  got 
to  be  ashamed  of,  anyway?  If  you  like  to  go  and 
get  some  one  else  to  look  after  the  place,  I'm  ready 
to  go.  You  hold  your  tongue,  that's  all  I've  got 
to  say,  if  it's  not  too  much  to  ask.  I'm  going  back 

281 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

now  to  get  your  supper  and  make  the  coffee,  and 
after  that  I  can  do  as  I  please." 

They  came  home  with  the  quarrel  at  its  height. 

No,  they  were  not  always  the  best  of  friends, 
Axel  and  Barbro;  there  was  trouble  now  and  again. 
She  had  been  with  him  now  for  a  couple  of  years, 
and  they  had  had  words  before;  mostly  when  Bar- 
bro talked  of  finding  another  place.  He  wanted  her 
to  stay  there  for  ever,  to  settle  down  there  and 
share  the  house  and  life  with  him;  he  knew  how  hard 
it  would  be  for  him  if  he  were  left  without  help 
again.  And  she  had  promised  several  times  —  ay, 
in  her  more  affectionate  moments  she  would  not 
think  of  going  away  at  all.  But  the  moment  they 
quarrelled  about  anything,  she  invariably  threatened 
to  go.  If  for  nothing  else,  she  must  go  to  have 
her  teeth  seen  to  in  town.  Go,  go  away  .  .  .  Axel 
felt  he  must  find  a  means  to  keep  her. 

Keep  her?  A  lot  Barbro  cared  for  his  trying  to 
keep  her  if  she  didn't  want  to  stay. 

"  Ho,  so  you  want  to  go  away  again?  "  said  he. 

"Well,  and  if  I  do?" 

"  Can  you,  d'you  think?" 

"Well,  and  why  not?  If  you  think  I'm  afraid 
because  the  winter's  coming  on  ...  But  I  can  get 
a  place  in  Bergen  any  day  I  like." 

Then  said  Axel  steadily  enough :  "  It'll  be  some 
time  before  you  can  do  that,  anyway.  As  long  as 
you're  with  child." 

"  With  child?     What  are  you  talking  about?  " 

Axel  stared.     Was  the  girl  mad? 
282 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

True,  he  himself  should  have  been  more  patient. 
Now  that  he  had  the  means  of  keeping  her,  he  had 
grown  too  confident,  and  that  was  a  mistake;  there 
was  no  need  to  be  sharp  with  her  and  make  her 
wild;  he  need  not  have  ordered  her  in  so  many  words 
to  help  him  with  the  potatoes  that  spring  —  he 
might  have  planted  them  by  himself.  There  would 
be  plenty  of  time  for  him  to  assert  his  authority 
after  they  were  married;  until  then  he  ought  to  have 
had  sense  enough  to  give  way. 

But  —  it  was  too  bad,  this  business  with  Eleseus, 
this  clerk,  who  came  swaggering  about  with  his  walk- 
ing-stick and  all  his  fine  talk.  For  a  girl  to  carry 
on  like  that  when  she  was  promised  to  another  man 
—  and  in  her  condition !  It  was  beyond  understand- 
ing. Up  to  then,  Axel  had  had  no  rival  to  com- 
pete with  —  now,  it  was  different. 

"  Here's  a  new  paper  for  you,"  he  said.  "  And 
here's  a  bit  of  a  thing  I  got  you.  Don't  know  if 
you'll  care  about  it." 

Barbro  was  cold.  They  were  sitting  there  to- 
gether, drinking  scalding  hot  coffee  from  the  bowl, 
but  for  all  that  she  answered  icy  cold: 

"  I  suppose  that's  the  gold  ring  you've  been  prom- 
ising me  this  twelvemonth  and  more." 

This,  however,  was  beyond  the  mark,  for  it  was 
the  ring  after  all.  But  a  gold  ring  it  was  not,  and 
that  he  had  never  promised  her — 'twas  an  inven- 
tion of  her  own;  silver  it  was,  with  gilt  hands 
clasped,  real  silver,  with  the  mark  on  and  all.  But 
ah,  that  unlucky  voyage  of  hers  to  Bergen !  Barbro 

283 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

had  seen  real  engagement  rings  —  no  use  telling 
her! 

'  That  ring!     Huh!     You  can  keep  it  yourself." 

"  What's  wrong  with  it,  then?  " 
'  Wrong  with  it?     There's  nothing  wrong  with 
it  that  I  know,"  she  answered,  and  got  up  to  clear 
the  table. 

'  Why,  you'll  needs  make  do  with  it  for  now," 
he  said.     "  Maybe  I'll  manage  another  some  day." 

Barbro  made  no  answer. 

A  thankless  creature  was  Barbro  this  evening.  A 
new  silver  ring  —  she  might  at  least  have  thanked 
him  nicely  for  it.  It  must  be  that  clerk  with  the 
town  ways  that  had  turned  her  head.  Axel  could 
not  help  saying:  "  I'd  like  to  know  what  that  fellow 
Eleseus  keeps  coming  here  for,  anyway.  What  does 
he  want  with  you?" 

"With  me?" 

"  Ay.  Is  he  such  a  greenhorn  and  can't  see  how 
'tis  with  you  now?  Hasn't  he  eyes  in  his  head?  " 

Barbro  turned  on  him  straight  at  that:  "  Oh,  so 
you  think  you've  got  a  hold  on  me  because  of  that? 
You'll  find  out  you're  wrong,  that's  all." 

"  Ho !  "  said  Axel. 

"  Ay,  and  I'll  not  stay  here,  neither." 

But  Axel  only  smiled  a  little  at  this;  not  broadly 
and  laughing  in  her  face,  no;  for  he  did  not  mean 
to  cross  her.  And  then  he  spoke  soothingly,  as  to  a 
child:  "  Be  a  good  girl  now,  Barbro.  'Tis  you  and 
me,  you  know." 

And  of  course  in  the  end  Barbro  gave  in  and  was 
284 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

good,  and  even  went  to  sleep  with  the  silver  ring  on 
her  finger. 

It  would  all  come  right  in  time,  never  fear. 

For  the  two  in  the  hut,  yes.  But  what  about 
Eleseus?  'Twas  worse  with  him;  he  found  it  hard 
to  get  over  the  shameful  way  Barbro  had  treated 
him.  He  knew  nothing  of  hysterics,  and  took  it 
as  all  pure  cruelty  on  her  part;  that  girl  Barbro 
from  Breidablik  thought  a  deal  too  much  of  her- 
self, even  though  she  had  been  in  Bergen.  .  .  . 

He  sent  her  back  the  photograph  in  a  way  of  his 
own  —  took  it  down  himself  one  night  and  stuck  it 
through  the  door  to  her  in  the  hayloft,  where  she 
slept.  'Twas  not  done  in  any  rough  unmannerly 
way,  not  at  all;  he  had  fidgeted  with  the  door  a  long 
time  so  as  to  wake  her,  and  when  she  rose  up  on 
her  elbow  and  asked,  "What's  the  matter;  can't 
you  find  your  way  in  this  evening?  "  he  understood 
the  question  was  meant  for  some  one  else,  and  it  went 
through  him  like  a  needle ;  like  a  sabre. 

He  walked  back  home  —  no  walking-stick,  no 
whistling.  He  did  not  care  about  playing  the  man 
any  longer.  A  stab  at  the  heart  is  no  light  matter. 

And  was  that  the  last  of  it? 

One  Sunday  he  went  down  just  to  look;  to  peep 
and  spy.  With  a  sickly  and  unnatural  patience  he 
lay  in  hiding  among  the  bushes,  staring  over  at  the 
hut.  And  when  at  last  there  came  a  sign  of  life  and 
movement  it  was  enough  to  make  an  end  of  him  alto- 
gether: Axel  and  Barbro  came  out  together  and  went 
across  to  the  cowshed.  They  were  loving  and  affec- 

285 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

donate  now,  ay,  they  had  a  blessed  hour;  they 
walked  with  their  arms  round  each  other,  and  he  was 
going  to  help  her  with  the  animals.  Ho,  yes ! 

Eleseus  watched  the  pair  with  a  look  as  if  he  had 
lost  all;  as  a  ruined  man.  And  his  thought,  maybe, 
was  like  this :  There  she  goes  arm  in  arm  with  Axel 
Strom.  How  she  could  ever  do  it  I  can't  think; 
there  was  a  time  when  she  put  her  arms  round  me ! 
And  there  they  disappeared  into  the  shed. 

Well,  let  them!  Huh!  Was  he  to  lie  here  in 
the  bushes  and  forget  himself?  A  nice  thing  for 
him  —  to  lie  there  flat  on  his  belly  and  forget  him- 
self. Who  was  she,  after  all?  But  he  was  the 
man  he  was.  Huh !  again. 

He  sprang  to  his  feet  and  stood  up.  Brushed  the 
twigs  and  dust  from  his  clothes  and  drew  himself  up 
and  stood  upright  again.  His  rage  and  desperation 
came  out  in  a  curious  fashion  now:  he  threw  all  care 
to  the  winds,  and  began  singing  a  ballad  of  highly 
frivolous  import.  And  there  was  an  earnest  expres- 
sion on  his  face  as  he  took  care  to  sing  the  worst 
parts  loudest  of  all. 


286 


Chapter  XIX 


ISAK  came  back  from  the  village  with  a  horse. 
Ay,  it  had  come  to  that;  he  had  bought  the 
horse  from  the  Lensmand's  assistant;  the  ani- 
mal was  for  sale,  as  Geissler  had  said,  but  it  cost 
two  hundred  and  forty  Kroner  —  that  was   sixty 
Daler.     The  price  of  horseflesh  had  gone  up  beyond 
all  bounds :  when  Isak  was  a  boy  the  best  horse  could 
be  bought  for  fifty  Daler. 

But  why  had  he  never  raised  a  horse  himself? 
He  had  thought  of  it,  had  imagined  a  nice  little  foal 
—  that  he  had  been  waiting  for  these  two  years 
past.  That  was  a  business  for  folk  who  could  spare 
the  time  from  their  land,  could  leave  waste  patches 
lying  waste  till  they  got  a  horse  to  carry  home  the 
crop.  The  Lensmand's  assistant  had  said:  "  I  don't 
care  about  paying  for  a  horse's  keep  myself;  I've  no 
more  hay  than  my  womenfolk  can  get  it  in  by  them- 
selves while  I'm  away  on  duty." 

The  new  horse  was  an  old  idea  of  Isak's,  he  had 
been  thinking  of  it  for  years ;  it  was  not  Geissler  who 
had  put  him  up  to  it.  And  he  had  also  made  prep- 
arations such  as  he  could;  a  new  stall,  a  new  rope 
for  tethering  it  in  the  summer;  as  for  carts,  he  had 
some  already,  he  must  make  some  more  for  the 
autumn.  Most  important  of  all  was  the  fodder,  and 

287 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

he  had  not  forgotten  that,  of  course ;  or  why  should 
he  have  thought  it  so  important  to  get  that  last 
patch  broken  up  last  year  if  it  hadn't  been  to  save 
getting  rid  of  one  of  the  cows,  and  yet  have  enough 
keep  for  a  new  horse  ?  It  was  sown  for  green  fod- 
der now ;  that  was  for  the  calving  cows. 

Ay,  he  had  thought  it  all  out.  Well  might  Inger 
be  astonished  again,  and  clap  her  hands  just  as  in 
the  old  days. 

Isak  brought  news  from  the  village;  Breidablik 
was  to  be  sold,  there  was  a  notice  outside  the  church. 
The  bit  of  crop,  such  as  it  was, —  hay  and  potatoes, 
—  to  go  with  the  rest.  Perhaps  the  live  stock  too ; 
a  few  beasts  only,  nothing  big. 

"  Is  he  going  to  sell  up  the  home  altogether  and 
leave  nothing?"  cried  Inger.  "And  where's  he 
going  to  live  ?  " 

"  In  the  village." 

It  was  true  enough.  Brede  was  going  back  to  the 
village.  But  he  had  first  tried  to  get  Axel  Strom 
to  let  him  live  there  with  Barbro.  He  didn't  suc- 
ceed. Brede  would  never  dream  of  interfering  with 
the  relations  between  his  daughter  and  Axel,  so  he 
was  careful  not  to  make  himself  a  nuisance,  though 
to  be  sure  it  was  a  hard  set-back,  with  all  the  rest. 
Axel  was  going  to  get  his  new  house  built  that 
autumn;  well,  then,  when  he  and  Barbro  moved  in 
there,  why  couldn't  Brede  and  his  family  have  a 
hut?  No!  'Twas  so  with  Brede,  he  didn't  look 
at  things  like  a  farmer  and  a  settler  on  new  land; 
he  didn't  understand  that  Axel  had  to  move  out  be- 

288 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

cause  he  wanted  the  hut  for  his  growing  stock;  the 
hut  was  to  be  a  new  cowshed.  And  even  when  this 
was  explained  to  him,  he  failed  to  see  the  point  of 
view;  surely  human  beings  should  come  before  ani- 
mals, he  said.  No,  a  settler's  way  was  different; 
animals  first;  a  man  could  always  find  himself  a 
shelter  for  the  winter.  But  Barbro  put  in  a  word 
herself  now:  "  Ho,  so  you  put  the  animals  first  and 
us  after?  'Tis  just  as  well  I  know  it!  "  So  Axel 
had  made  enemies  of  a  whole  family  because  he 
hadn't  room  to  house  them.  But  he  would  not  give 
way.  He  was  no  good-natured  fool,  was  Axel,  but 
on  the  contrary  he  had  grown  more  and  more  care- 
ful; he  knew  well  that  a  crowd  like  that  moving  in 
would  give  him  so  many  more  mouths  to  fill.  Brede 
bade  his  daughter  be  quiet,  and  tried  to  make  out 
that  he  himself  would  rather  move  down  to  the  vil- 
lage again;  couldn't  endure  life  in  the  wilderness, 
he  said — 'twas  only  for  that  reason  he  was  selling 
the  place. 

Oh,  but  to  tell  the  truth  it  was  not  so  much  Brede 
was  selling  the  place;  'twas  the  Bank  and  the  store- 
keeper were  selling  up  Breidablik,  though  for  the 
sake  of  appearances  they  let  it  be  done  in  Brede's 
name.  That  way,  he  thought  he  was  saved  from 
disgrace.  And  Brede  was  not  altogether  dejected 
when  Isak  met  him;  he  consoled  himself  with  the 
thought  that  he  was  still  Inspector  on  the  telegraph 
line;  that  was  a  regular  income,  anyway,  and  in 
time  he  would  be  able  to  work  up  to  his  old  position 
in  the  place  as  the  Lensmand's  companion  and  this 

280 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

and  that.  He  was  something  affected  at  the  change, 
of  course;  'twas  not  so  easy  to  say  good-bye  to  a 
place  where  one  had  lived  and  toiled  and  moiled  so 
many  years,  and  come  to  care  for.  But  Brede,  good 
man,  was  never  long  cast  down.  'Twas  his  best 
point,  the  charm  of  him.  He  had  once  in  his  life 
taken  it  into  his  head  to  be  a  tiller  of  the  soil,  'twas 
an  inspiration  had  come  to  him.  True,  he  had  not 
made  a  success  of  it,  but  he  had  taken  up  other  plans 
in  the  same  airy  way  and  got  on  better;  and  who 
could  say  —  perhaps  his  samples  of  ore  might  after 
all  turn  out  something  wonderful  in  time !  And 
then  look  at  Barbro,  he  had  got  her  fixed  up  there 
at  Maaneland,  and  she'd  not  be  leaving  Axel  Strom 
now,  that  he  could  swear — 'twas  plain  indeed  for 
any  one  to  see. 

No,  there  was  nothing  to  fear  as  long  as  he  had 
his  health  and  could  work  for  himself  and  those  that 
looked  to  him,  said  Brede  Olsen.  And  the  children 
were  just  growing  up,  and  big  enough  now  to  go  out 
and  make  their  own  way  in  the  world,  said  he. 
Helge  was  gone  to  the  herring  fisheries  already,  and 
Katrine  was  going  to  help  at  the  doctor's.  That 
left  only  the  two  youngest  —  well,  well,  there  was 
a  third  on  the  way,  true,  but,  anyhow  .  .  . 

Isak  had  more  news  from  the  village:  the  Lens- 
mand's  lady  had  had  a  baby.  Inger  suddenly  inter- 
ested at  this:  "  Boy  or  girl?  " 

"  Why,  I  didn't  hear  which,"  said  Isak. 

But  the  Lensmand's  lady  had  had  a  child  after 
all  —  after  all  the  way  she'd  spoken  at  the  women's 

290 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

club  about  the  increasing  birth-rate  among  the  poor ; 
better  give  women  the  franchise  and  let  them  have 
some  say  in  their  own  affairs,  she  said.  And  now 
she  was  caught.  Yes,  the  parson's  wife  had  said, 
"  She's  had  some  say  in  lots  of  things  —  but  her 
own  affairs  are  none  the  better  for  it,  ha  ha  ha !  " 
And  that  was  a  clever  saying  that  went  the  round 
of  the  village,  and  there  were  many  that  understood 
what  was  meant  —  Inger  no  doubt  as  well;  it  was 
only  Isak  who  did  not  understand. 

Isak  understood  his  work,  his  calling.  He  was  a 
rich  man  now,  with  a  big  farm,  but  the  heavy  cash 
payments  that  had  come  to  him  by  a  lucky  chance  he 
used  but  poorly;  he  put  the  money  aside.  The  land 
saved  him.  If  he  had  lived  down  in  the  village, 
maybe  the  great  world  would  have  affected  even  him; 
so  much  gaiety,  so  many  elegant  manners  and  ways; 
he  would  have  been  buying  useless  trifles,  and  wear- 
ing a  red  Sunday  shirt  on  weekdays.  Here  in  the 
wilds  he  was  sheltered  from  all  immoderation;  he 
lived  in  clear  air,  washed  himself  on  Sunday  morn- 
ings, and  took  a  bath  when  he  went  up  to  the  lake. 
Those  thousand  Daler  —  well,  'twas  a  gift  from 
Heaven,  to  be  kept  intact.  What  else  should  he  do  ? 
His  ordinary  outgoings  were  more  than  covered  by 
the  produce  of  his  fields  and  stock. 

Eleseus,  of  course,  knew  better;  he  had  advised 
his  father  to  put  the  money  in  the  Bank.  Well, 
perhaps  that  was  the  best,  but  Isak  had  put  off  doing 
it  for  the  present  —  perhaps  it  would  never  be  done 
at  all.  Not  that  Isak  was  above  taking  advice  from 

291 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

his  son;  Eleseus  was  no  fool,  as  he  showed  later  on. 
Now,  in  the  haymaking  season,  he  had  tried  his  hand 
with  the  scythe  —  but  he  was  no  master  hand  at 
that,  no.  He  kept  close  to  Sivert,  and  had  to  get 
him  to  use  the  whetstone  every  time.  But  Eleseus 
had  long  arms  and  could  pick  up  hay  in  first-rate 
fashion.  And  he  and  Sivert  and  Leopoldine,  and 
Jensine  the  servant-maid,  they  were  all  busy  now 
in  the  fields  with  the  first  lot  of  hay  that  year.  Ele- 
seus did  not  spare  himself  either,  but  raked  away  till 
his  hands  were  blistered  and  had  to  be  wrapped  in 
rags.  He  had  lost  his  appetite  for  a  week  or  so, 
but  worked  none  the  worse  for  it  now.  Something 
had  come  over  the  boy;  it  looked  perhaps  as  if  a 
certain  unhappy  love  affair  or  something  of  the  sort, 
a  touch  of  never-to-be-forgotten  sorrow  and  dis- 
tress, had  done  him  a  world  of  good.  And,  look 
you,  he  had  by  now  smoked  the  last  of  the  tobacco 
he  had  brought  with  him  from  town;  ordinarily,  that 
would  have  been  enough  to  make  a  clerk  go  about 
banging  doors  and  expressing  himself  emphatically 
upon  many  points;  but  no,  Eleseus  only  grew  the 
steadier  for  it;  firmer  and  more  upright;  a  man  in- 
deed. Even  Sivert,  the  jester,  could  not  put  him  out 
of  countenance.  Today  the  pair  of  them  were  lying 
out  on  boulders  in  the  river  to  drink,  and  Sivert 
imprudently  offered  to  get  some  extra  fine  moss  and 
dry  it  for  tobacco  — "  unless  you'd  rather  smoke  it 
raw?  "  he  said. 

"  I'll  give  you  tobacco,"  said  Eleseus,  and  reach- 
ing out,  ducked  Sivert  head  and  shoulders  in  the 

292 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

water.  Ho,  one  for  him!  Sivert  came  back  with 
his  hair  still  dripping. 

u  Looks  like  Eleseus  he's  turning  out  for  the 
good,"  thought  Isak  to  himself,  watching  his  son  at 
work.  And  to  Inger  he  said:  "  H'm  —  wonder  if 
Eleseus  he'll  be  staying  home  now  for  good?  " 

And  she  just  as  queerly  cautious  again:  '  'Tis 
more  than  I  can  say.  No,  I  doubt  if  he  will." 

"  Ho !     Have  you  said  a  word  of  it  to  himself?  " 

"  No  —  well,  yes,  I've  talked  a  bit  with  him,  may- 
be. But  that's  the  way  I  think." 

"  Like  to  know,  now  —  suppose  he'd  a  bit  of  land 
of  his  own  .  .  ." 

"  How  do  you  mean?  " 

"  If  he'd  work  on  a  place  of  his  own?  " 

"  No." 

'  Well,  have  you  said  anything?  " 

"  Said  anything?  Can't  you  see  for  yourself? 
No,  I  don't  see  anything  in  him  Eleseus,  that  way." 

"  Don't  sit  there  talking  ill  of  him,"  said  Isak 
impartially.  "  All  I  can  see  is,  he's  doing  a  good 
day's  work  down  there." 

"  Ay,  maybe,"  said  Inger  submissively. 

"  And  I  can't  see  what  you've  got  to  find  fault 
with  the  lad,"  cried  Isak,  evidently  displeased. 
"  He  does  his  work  better  and  better  every  day,  and 
what  can  you  ask  more?  " 

Inger  murmured:  "  Ay,  but  he's  not  like  he  used 
to  be.  You  try  talking  to  him  about  waistcoats." 

"About  waistcoats?     What  d'you  mean?" 

"  How     he     used     to     wear    white     waistcoats 

293 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

in   summer   when  he   was   in   town,    so   he   says." 

Isak  pondered  this  a  while;  it  was  beyond  him. 
'Well,  can't  he  have  a  white  waistcoat?  "  he  said. 
Isak  was  out  of  his  depth  here ;  of  course  it  was  only 
women's  nonsense;  to  his  mind,  the  boy  had  a  per- 
fect right  to  a  white  waistcoat,  if  it  pleased  him; 
anyhow,  he  couldn't  see  what  there  was  to  make  a 
fuss  about,  and  was  inclined  to  put  the  matter  aside 
and  go  on. 

;<  Well,  what  do  you  think,  if  he  had  Brede's  bit 
of  land  to  work  on?  " 

"Who?"  said  Inger. 

"  Him  Eleseus." 

"  Breidablik?  Nay,  'tis  more  than's  worth  your 
while." 

The  fact  was,  she  had  already  been  talking  over 
that  very  plan  with  Eleseus,  she  had  heard  it  from 
Sivert,  who  could  not  keep  the  secret.  And  indeed, 
why  should  Sivert  keep  the  matter  secret  when  his 
father  had  surely  told  him  of  it  on  purpose  to  feel 
his  way?  It  was  not  the  first  time  he  had  used 
Sivert  as  a  go-between.  Well,  but  what  had  Eleseus 
answered?  Just  as  before,  as  in  his  letters  from 
town,  that  no,  he  would  not  throw  away  all  he  had 
learned,  and  be  an  insignificant  nothing  again.  That 
was  what  he  had  said.  Well,  and  then  his  mother 
had  brought  out  all  her  good  reasons,  but  Eleseus 
had  said  no  to  them  all;  he  had  other  plans  for  his 
life.  Young  hearts  have  their  unfathomable 
depths,  and  after  what  had  happened,  likely  enough 
he  did  not  care  about  staying  on  with  Barbro  as  a 

294 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

neighbour.  Who  could  say?  He  had  put  it  loftily 
enough  in  talking  to  his  mother ;  he  could  get  a  bet- 
ter position  in  town  than  the  one  he  had;  could  go 
as  clerk  to  one  of  the  higher  officials.  He  must  get 
on,  he  must  rise  in  the  world.  In  a  few  years,  per- 
haps, he  might  be  a  Lensmand,  or  perhaps  a  light- 
house keeper,  or  get  into  the  Customs.  There  were 
so  many  roads  open  to  a  man  with  learning. 

However  it  might  be,  his  mother  came  round,  was 
drawn  over  to  his  point  of  view.  Oh,  she  was  so 
little  sure  of  herself  yet;  the  world  had  not  quite 
lost  its  hold  on  her.  Last  winter  she  had  gone  so 
far  as  to  read  occasionally  a  certain  excellent  devo- 
tional work  which  she  had  brought  from  Trondhjem^ 
from  the  Institute;  but  now,  Eleseus  might  be  a 
Lensmand  one  day! 

"  And  why  not?  "  said  Eleseus.  "  What's  Hey- 
erdahl  himself  but  a  former  clerk  in  the  same  de- 
partment? " 

Splendid  prospects.  His  mother  herself  advised 
him  not  to  give  up  his  career  and  throw  himself 
away.  What  was  a  man  like  that  to  do  in  the  wilds? 

But  why  should  Eleseus  then  trouble  to  work  hard 
and  steadily  as  he  was  doing  now  on  his  father's 
land?  Heaven  knows,  he  had  some  reason,  maybe. 
Something  of  inborn  pride  in  him  still,  perhaps;  he 
would  not  be  outdone  by  others;  and  besides,  it 
would  do  him  no  harm  to  be  in  his  father's  good 
books  the  day  he  went  away.  To  tell  the  truth,  he 
had  a  number  of  little  debts  in  town,  and  it  would  be 
a  good  thing  to  be  able  to  settle  them  at  once  — 

295 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

improve  his  credit  a  lot.  And  it  was  not  a  question 
now  of  a  mere  hundred  Kroner,  but  something  worth 
considering. 

Eleseus  was  far  from  stupid,  but  on  the  contrary, 
a  sly  fellow  in  his  way.  He  had  seen  his  father 
come  home,  and  knew  well  enough  he  was  sitting 
there  in  the  window  at  that  moment,  looking  out. 
No  harm  in  putting  his  back  into  it  then  for  a  bit, 
working  a  little  harder  for  the  moment  —  it  would 
hurt  no  one,  and  might  do  himself  good. 

Eleseus  was  somehow  changed;  whatever  it  might 
be,  something  in  him  had  been  warped,  and  quietly 
spoiled;  he  was  not  bad,  but  something  blemished. 
Had  he  lacked  a  guiding  hand  those  last  few  years? 
What  could  his  mother  do  to  help  him  now?  Only 
stand  by  him  and  agree.  She  could  let  herself  be 
dazzled  by  her  son's  bright  prospects  for  the  future, 
and  stand  between  him  and  his  father,  to  take  his 
part  —  she  could  do  that. 

But  Isak  grew  impatient  at  last  over  her  opposi- 
tion; to  his  mind,  the  idea  about  Breidablik  was  by 
no  means  a  bad  one.  Only  that  very  day,  coming 
up,  he  had  stopped  the  horse  almost  without  think- 
ing, to  look  out  with  a  critical  eye  over  the  ill-tended 
land;  ay,  it  could  be  made  a  fine  place  in  proper 
hands. 

"Why  not  worth  while?"  he  asked  Inger  now. 
"  I've  that  much  feeling  for  Eleseus,  anyway,  that 
I'd  help  him  to  it." 

"  If  you've  any  feeling  for  him,  then  say  never  a 
word  of  Breidablik  again,"  she  answered. 

296 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

"Ho!" 

"  Ay,  for  he's  greater  thoughts  in  his  head  than 
the  like  of  us." 

Isak,  too,  is  hardly  sure  of  himself  here,  and  it 
weakens  him;  but  he  is  by  no  means  pleased  at  hav- 
ing shown  his  hand,  and  spoken  straight  out  about 
his  plan.  He  is  unwilling  to  give  it  up  now. 

"  He  shall  do  as  I  say,"  declares  Isak  suddenly. 
And  he  raises  his  voice  threateningly,  in  case  Inger 
by  any  chance  should  be  hard  of  hearing.  "  Ay, 
you  may  look;  I'll  say  no  more.  It's  midway  up, 
with  a  schoolhouse  by,  and  everything;  what's  the 
greater  thoughts  he's  got  beyond  that,  I'd  like  to 
know?  With  a  son  like  that  I  might  starve  to  death 
—  is  that  any  better,  d'you  think?  And  can  you 
tell  me  why  my  own  flesh  and  blood  should  turn  and 
go  contrary  to  —  to  my  own  flesh  and  blood?  " 

Isak  stopped;  he  realized  that  the  more  he  talked 
the  worse  it  would  be.  He  was  on  the  point  of 
changing  his  clothes,  getting  out  of  his  best  things 
he  had  put  on  to  go  down  to  the  village  in;  but  no, 
he  altered  his  mind,  he  would  stay  as  he  was  — 
whatever  he  meant  by  that.  "  You'd  better  say  a 
word  of  it  to  Eleseus,"  he  says  then. 

And  Inger  answers:  "  Best  if  you'd  say  it  your- 
self. He  won't  do  as  I  say." 

Very  well,  then,  Isak  is  head  of  the  house,  so  he 
should  think;  now  see  if  Eleseus  dares  to  murmur! 
But,  whether  it  were  because  he  feared  defeat,  Isak 
draws  back  now,  and  says:  "Ay,  'tis  true,  I  might 
say  a  word  of  it  myself.  But  by  reason  of  having 

297 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

so  many  things  to  do,  and  busy  with  this  and  that, 
I've  something  else  to  think  of." 

'  Well  ...    ?  "  said  Inger  in  surprise. 

And  Isak  goes  off  again  —  not  very  far,  only  to 
the  farther  fields,  but  still,  he  goes  off.  He  is  full 
of  mysteries,  and  must  hide  himself  out  of  the  way. 
The  fact  is  this:  he  had  brought  back  a  third  piece 
of  news  from  the  village  today,  and  that  was  some- 
thing more  than  the  rest,  something  enormous;  and 
he  had  hidden  it  at  the  edge  of  the  wood.  There  it 
stands,  wrapped  up  in  sacking  and  paper;  he  un- 
covers it,  and  lo,  a  huge  machine.  Look!  red  and 
blue,  wonderful  to  see,  with  a  heap  of  teeth  and  a 
heap  of  knives,  with  joints  and  arms  and  screws  and 
wheels  —  a  mowing-machine.  No,  Isak  would  not 
have  gone  down  today  for  the  new  horse  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  that  machine. 

He  stands  with  a  marvellously  keen  expression, 
going  over  in  his  mind  from  beginning  to  end  the  in- 
structions for  use  that  the  storekeeper  had  read  out; 
he  sets  a  spring  here,  and  shifts  a  bolt  there,  then  he 
oils  every  hole  and  every  crevice,  then  he  looks  over 
the  whole  thing  once  more.  Isak  had  never  known 
such  an  hour  in  his  life.  To  pick  up  a  pen  and 
write  one's  mark  on  a  paper,  a  document  —  ay,  'twas 
a  perilous  great  thing  that,  no  doubt.  Likewise  in 
the  matter  of  a  new  harrow  he  had  once  brought  up 
—  there  were  many  curiously  twisted  parts  in  that 
to  be  considered.  Not  to  speak  of  the  great  circular 
saw  that  had  to  be  set  in  its  course  to  the  nicety  of 
a  pencil  line,  never  swaying  east  nor  west,  lest 

208 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

it  should  fly  asunder.  But  this  —  this  mowing- 
machine  of  his — 'twas  a  crawling  nest  of  steel 
springs  and  hooks  and  apparatus,  and  hundreds  of 
screws  —  Inger's  sewing-machine  was  a  bookmarker 
compared  with  this! 

Isak  harnessed  himself  to  the  shafts  and  tried  the 
thing.  Here  was  the  wonderful  moment.  And 
that  was  why  he  kept  out  of  sight  and  was  his  own 
horse. 

For  —  what  if  the  machine  had  been  wrongly  put 
together  and  did  not  do  its  work,  but  went  to  pieces 
with  a  crash!  No  such  calamity  happened,  how- 
ever; the  machine  could  cut  grass.  And  so  indeed  it 
.ought,  after  Isak  had  stood  there,  deep  in  study,  for 
hours.  The  sun  had  gone  down.  Again  he  har- 
nesses himself  and  tries  it;  ay,  the  thing  cuts  grass. 
And  so  indeed  it  ought! 

When  the  dew  began  to  fall  close  after  the  heat 
of  the  day,  and  the  boys  came  out,  each  with  his 
scythe  to  mow  in  readiness  for  next  day,  Isak  came 
in  sight  close  to  the  house  and  said : 

"  Put  away  scythes  for  tonight.  Get  out  the  new 
horse,  you  can,  and  bring  him  down  to  the  edge  of 
the  wood." 

And  on  that,  instead  of  going  indoors  to  his  sup- 
per as  the  others  had  done  already,  he  turned  where 
he  stood  and  went  back  the  way  he  had  come. 

"  D'you  want  the  cart,  then?  "  Sivert  called  after 
him. 

"  No,"  said  his  father,  and  walked  on. 

Swelling  with  mystery,  full  of  pride ;  with  a  little 
299 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

lift  and  throw  from  the  knee  at  every  step,  so  em- 
phatically did  he  walk.  So  a  brave  man  might  walk 
to  death  and  destruction,  carrying  no  weapon  in  his 
hand. 

The  boys  came  up  with  the  horse,  saw  the  machine, 
and  stopped  dead.  It  was  the  first  mowing-machine 
in  the  wilds,  the  first  in  the  village  —  red  and  blue, 
a  thing  of  splendour  to  man's  eyes.  And  the 
father,  head  of  them  all,  called  out,  oh,  in  a  careless 
tone,  as  if  it  were  nothing  uncommon:  "Harness 
up  to  this  machine  here." 

And  they  drove  it;  the  father  drove.  Brrr!  said 
the  thing,  and  felled  the  grass  in  swathes.  The 
boys  walked  behind,  nothing  in  their  hands,  doing 
no  work,  smiling.  The  father  stopped  and  looked 
back.  H'm,  not  as  clear  as  it  might  be.  He  screws 
up  a  nut  here  and  there  to  bring  the  knives  closer 
to  the  ground,  and  tries  again.  No,  not  right  yet, 
all  uneven;  the  frame  with  the  cutters  seems  to  be 
hopping  a  little.  Father  and  sons  discuss  what  it 
can  be.  Eleseus  has  found  the  instructions  and  is 
reading  them.  "  Here,  it  says  to  sit  up  on  the  seat 
when  you  drive  —  then  it  runs  steadier,"  he  says. 

"  Ho !  "  says  his  father.  "  Ay,  'tis  so,  I  know," 
he  answers.  "  I've  studied  it  all  through."  He 
gets  up  into  the  seat  and  starts  off  again;  it  goes 
steadily  now.  Suddenly  the  machine  stops  working 
—  the  knives  are  not  cutting  at  all.  "  Ptro! 
What's  wrong  now?  "  Father  down  from  his  seat, 
no  longer  swelling  with  pride,  but  bending  an  anx- 
ious, questioning  face  down  over  the  machine. 

300 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

Father  and  sons  all  stare  at  it;  something  must  be 
wrong.     Eleseus  stands  holding  the  instructions. 

"  Here's  a  bolt  or  something,"  says  Sivert,  pick- 
ing up  a  thing  from  the  grass. 

"  Ho,  that's  all  right,  then,"  says  his  father,  as  if 
that  was  all  that  was  needed  to  set  everything  in 
order.  "  I  was  just  looking  for  that  bolt."  But 
now  they  could  not  find  the  hole  for  it  to  fit  in  — 
where  in  the  name  of  wonder  could  the  hole  be,  now? 
And  it  was  now  that  Eleseus  could  begin  to  feel 
himself  a  person  of  importance;  he  was  the  man  to 
make  out  a  printed  paper  of  instructions.  What 
would  they  do  without  him?  He  pointed  unneces- 
sarily long  to  the  hole  and  explained:  "According 
to  the  illustration,  the  bolt  should  fit  in  there." 

"  Ay,  that's  where  she  goes,"  said  his  father. 
"  'Twas  there  I  had  it  before."  And,  by  way  of 
regaining  lost  prestige,  he  ordered  Sivert  to  set 
about  looking  for  more  bolts  in  the  grass.  "  There 
ought  to  be  another,"  he  said,  looking  very  import- 
ant, as  if  he  carried  the  whole  thing  in  his  head. 
"  Can't  you  find  another?  Well,  well,  it'll  be  in  its 
hole  then,  all  right." 

Father  starts  off  again. 

'  Wait  a  minute  —  this  is  wrong,"  cried  Eleseus. 
Ho,  Eleseus  standing  there  with  the  drawing  in  his 
hand,  with  the  Law  in  his  hand;  no  getting  away 
from  him !  "  That  spring  there  goes  outside,"  he 
says  to  his  father. 

"Ay,  what  then?" 

i{  Why,  you've  got  it  in  under,  you've  set  it  wrong. 
301 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

It's  a  steel  spring,  and  you  have  to  fix  it  outside, 
else  the  bolt  jars  out  again  and  stops  the  knives. 
You  can  see  in  the  picture  here." 

"  I've  left  my  spectacles  behind,  and  can't  see  it 
quite,"  says  his  father,  something  meekly.  "  You 
can  see  better  —  you  set  it  as  it  should  go.  I  don't 
want  to  go  up  to  the  house  for  my  spectacles  now." 

All  in  order  now,  and  Isak  gets  up.  Eleseus  calls 
after  him :  "  You  must  drive  pretty  fast,  it  cuts  bet- 
ter that  way  —  it  says  so  here." 

Isak  drives  and  drives,  and  everything  goes  well, 
and  Brrr!  says  the  machine.  There  is  a  broad  track 
of  cut  grass  in  his  wake,  neatly  in  line,  ready  to  take 
up.  Now  they  can  see  him  from  the  house,  and  all 
the  womenfolk  come  out;  Inger  carries  little  Re- 
becca on  her  arm,  though  little  Rebecca  has  learned 
to  walk  by  herself  long  since.  But  there  they  come 
—  four  womenfolk,  big  and  small  —  hurrying  with 
straining  eyes  down  towards  the  miracle,  flocking 
down  to  see.  Oh,  but  now  is  Isak's  hour.  Now  he 
is  truly  proud,  a  mighty  man,  sitting  high  aloft 
dressed  in  holiday  clothes,  in  all  his  finery;  in  jacket 
and  hat,  though  the  sweat  is  pouring  off  him.  He 
swings  round  in  four  big  angles,  goes  over  a  good  bit 
of  ground,  swings  round,  drives,  cuts  grass,  passes 
along  by  where  the  women  are  standing;  they  are 
dumbfounded,  it  is  all  beyond  them,  and  Brrr !  says 
the  machine. 

Then  Isak  stops  and  gets  down.  Longing,  no 
doubt,  to  hear  what  these  folk  on  earth  down  there 
will  say;  what  they  will  find  to  say  about  it  all.  He 

302 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

hears  smothered  cries;  they  fear  to  disturb  him,  these 
beings  on  earth,  in  his  lordly  work,  but  they  turn  to 
one  another  with  awed  questionings,  and  he  hears 
what  they  say.  And  now,  that  he  may  be  a  kind  and 
fatherly  lord  and  ruler  to  them  all,  to  encourage 
them,  he  says:  "  There,  I'll  just  do  this  bit,  and  you 
can  spread  it  tomorrow." 

"  Haven't  you  time  to  come  in  and  have  a  bite  of 
food?  "  says  Inger,  all  overwhelmed. 

"  Nay,  I've  other  things  to  do,"  he  answers. 

Then  he  oils  the  machine  again;  gives  them  to 
understand  that  he  is  occupied  with  scientific  work. 
Drives  off  again,  cutting  more  grass.  And,  at  long 
last,  the  womenfolk  go  back  home. 

Happy  Isak  —  happy  folk  at  Sellanraa ! 

Very  soon  the  neighbours  from  below  will  be  com- 
ing up.  Axel  Strom  is  interested  in  things,  he  may 
be  up  tomorrow.  But  Brede  from  Breidablik,  he 
might  be  here  that  very  evening.  Isak  would  not  be 
loth  to  show  them  his  machine,  explain  it  to  them, 
tell  them  how  it  works,  and  all  about  it.  He  can 
point  out  how  that  no  man  with  a  scythe  could  ever 
cut  so  fine  and  clean.  But  it  costs  money,  of  course 
—  oh,  a  red-and-blue  machine  like  that  is  a  terribly 
costly  thing ! 

Happy  Isak! 

But  as  he  stops  for  oil  the  third  time,  there!  his 
spectacles  fall  from  his  pocket.  And,  worst  of  all, 
the  two  boys  saw  it.  Was  there  a  higher  power  be- 
hind that  little  happening  —  a  warning  against  over- 
weening pride?  He  had  put  on  those  spectacles 

303 


Growth  of  the  Soil 

time  and  again  that  day  to  study  the  instructions, 
without  making  out  a  word;  Eleseus  had  to  help 
him  with  that.  Eyah,  Herregud,  'twas  a  good 
thing,  no  doubt,  to  be  book-learned.  And,  by  way 
of  humbling  himself,  Isak  determines  to  give  up  his 
plan  of  making  Eleseus  a  tiller  of  soil  in  the  wilds; 
he  will  never  say  a  word  of  it  again. 

Not  that  the  boys  made  any  great  business  about 
that  matter  of  the  spectacles;  far  from  it.  Sivert, 
the  jester,  had  to  say  something,  of  course;  it  was 
too  much  for  him.  He  plucked  Eleseus  by  the 
sleeve  and  said :  "  Here,  come  along,  we'll  go  back 
home  and  throw  those  scythes  on  the  fire.  Father's 
going  to  do  all  the  mowing  now  with  his  machine !  " 
And  that  was  a  jest  indeed. 


304 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 

COLLEGE  LIBRARY 

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MAR2579  1 

U  MAR '80  RECCL 
4  DEC  1980  14  DAY 


Book  Slip-lOm-5,'58  (372.784)4280 


UCLA-College  Library 

PT8950H3M3EV-1 


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